The Future
by Bluest-of-Jayys
Summary: Berwald was a kid who couldn't control his fists. Tino was a kid who couldn't control his failures. Even though they are no longer kids, old problems need new solutions and what better place to find them than a complete overhaul of their IMAGE? Modeling AU, prequel to Top Model. SuFin, M for later.
1. Chapter 1: The Beginning of Time

**01 - The Beginning of Time**

"I am very sorry to have called you in, Mrs. Oxenstierna, but your son..."

Berwald watched from his chair in the corner of the principal's office, eyes as green as sea glass glaring over horn-rimmed glasses. How many times in his thirteen years of life had he heard those words before? They had bitten at his ears so many times over the years that he no longer reacted to them, simply glaring at the balding principal of his school.

Even his mother was unperturbed by such words, having heard them just as many times as Berwald had. "What did my son do this time?" she asked tiredly with an exasperated, drawn-out sigh.

"He broke all the windows in the gymnasium, save for one."

_Broke that one less than ten minutes ago,_ Berwald corrected mentally.

"His grades are at the top of the school, but we cannot continue to have him act this way!"

Berwald's mind wandered to Monika, the pretty blond girl in his history class. He wondered what she was doing right now. It was she who said to him with an idle smile on her face that she wished the gym windows were made of stained glass, and, well, maybe if the windows were broken, maybe if Berwald had broken them, they would replace them with pretty stained glass windows and Monika would flutter with happiness.

He was still thinking of Monika when his mother, spitting up apologies as if they were snakes, dragged him by the sleeve of his uniform out of the principal's office, into the car, and home, lecturing and chiding him the whole time.

Later that night, he would carefully peel the tape off from the bottom of the pinup of the buxom blonde above his bed, take a pencil, find an empty space on the wall, and write in his faint, neat script, "I did it for you, Monika," and stare at it until all the graphite under his wall melded together into a gray mass, reaching out at him, taunting him, and when it became too much, he would carefully replace the poster, bury himself in the blankets, and go to sleep.

That was three years ago.

**XxX**

He would repeat the same experience many times in the next three years, even after Monika disappeared from his thoughts and the buxom blonde girl on his wall was replaced by a buff brunette boy, until one particular day which would live in Berwald's mind forever.

He was sixteen, whacking at trash cans in an alleyway near his school with a baseball bat. The boy he liked had gotten a girlfriend, a pretty, raven-haired girl in her last year of secondary school with rosy lips and dark eyes. Quite the opposite of tall, stocky, golden-haired, thin-lipped Berwald. So engrossed in his negative feelings, he didn't notice one particular classmate come running up to him.

"_Aïe,_ kid, what are you doing?" he cried, wavy blond hair bouncing as he ran over to Berwald.

Berwald froze like a deer caught in headlights, baseball bat clattering to the pavement of the alley way. He recognized that particular Senior from his mixed-grade architectural design class: his name was Francis Bonnefoy. A feeling of panic rose within him; he could handle inanimate objects like windows or trash cans just fine, but he was awful with people... The sight of his classmate running towards him was just terrifying. "I don't know what kind of crazy shit you're doing, but you need to stop!" He raged. Berwald responded with his most terrifying glare, one he hoped would scare Francis away.

It didn't work. Francis did not relent, trapping Berwald against the wall, screaming and yelling incoherently. Berwald put his hands over his ears, trying to block the rage out, looking up only when it stopped. Francis's words took on a softer tone and clarity. Berwald lowered his hands.

"Look, _mon ami,_ if you really need something to do, take this card and come to this address," he produced a small business card from his pocket. "It's better than beating up trash cans in your spare time."

Reluctantly, Berwald took the card, and reluctantly, he went to the address inscribed the next day.

Reluctantly, he had become a model.

**XxX**

It was tough going at first, and Berwald had the urge to give up and go back to kicking trash cans countless times. Francis was strict with him no matter what, and seemed dead set on reforming the troubled teen, even after he graduated. But it all paid off in the end: through his undying perseverance, by the time Berwald graduated high school with his handsomest smile (which was really no more than an elated smirk) and exemplary grades, he was an upstanding, openly and proudly gay young man who had not lashed out in three years, was on his way to becoming a first-degree black belt in TaeKwonDo, and one of the youngest and most prolific models in all of Germany.

He had reformed his life to an immense degree, but when he had finally unpacked the last box in his new apartment in Berlin, turned to express his overwhelming, heart-aching feelings of gratitude to Francis for helping him so much, and choked on his own words, he realized with a sinking heart that he still had a long way to go.

**XxX**

Around the same time, a young man named Tino Väinämöinen, in his last year of secondary school, was in the library, studying for his college entrance exams. He was a handsome kid, with a round, cherubic face and warm violet eyes which sparkled when he smiled, and had the top marks in his school and a plethora of friends, but this time, he was not smiling. In fact, he was on the verge of tears, staring at a blurry math problem he had completely forgotten how to solve, no matter how many times he checked his notes or racked his considerable brain for the answer.

_Why does this keep happening?_ he thought desperately, _Am I losing my edge? I'm still the top student, but... _He wanted to scream, but this was a library and he had to stay quiet.

And then there were the voices of his friends and family.

_"Come on, Tino, you're the best at everything!" _

_ "Tino, you're so smart, thanks for helping me out!"_

_ "Man, you should get into Himmel University no problem!"_

_ "Wait, Tino, you got an A-? What?"_

_ "Wooo! I can't believe I got a higher grade than Tino!"_

_ "Tino, you thought that test was hard? That was the easiest exam I've ever taken!" _

All he had to do was get past the exams, get into Himmel University, and then the stress would be over. Done. And he could finally relax as the success he was.

He wiped the tears away with the heel of his hand. Exams were tomorrow, and he had to get studying.

**XxX**

The results.

Tino stared at the paper, wide-eyed, unable to believe what was on it.

He failed.

Perhaps for the first time in his life, Tino had failed.

All those hours he had logged into studying, all those times he had blown off his friends, all those hours he had literally given up his life in favor of cracking open a textbook when he would rather be sleeping or eating or relaxing... All for naught. He had staked his entire future on Himmel University, and failed.

Either way, he still graduated at the top of his class, even making a speech as valedictorian, but the smiles he gave were hollow and when he got home, all he wanted to do was rip his diploma to shreds. But he couldn't bring himself to do that and instead hid it in a manila envelope under his bed.

Now that he had graduated without getting into college, he didn't want to do anything anymore. His entire life had been thrown off course and he had no idea what to do; he was doomed to live a bleak, uneducated life stuck in Berlin. Maybe he would become a sewer rat. As he lounged around on the couch, he entertained dark fantasies of unemployment, homelessness... All alone and without any brightness to look forward to.

Well, he did have one thing to do.

He grabbed his fake ID and headed downtown for a drink, unaware that his life was not quite over yet.

* * *

**AN:** **And it's up! Hopefully, those who liked _Top Model_ and also like SuFin will like this fic as well, for this is for you guys! This time, I'm aiming for something a bit more serious, but don't worry, it'll get more glamorous as time goes on. ;) People were anticipating this, and I hope I can deliver, if you just bear with me for a bit! I actually already have the first five chapters written and I am working on the sixth... I can't believe it took me _five chapters_ to fall back into the swing of things, I am so sorry. **

**Rant aside, readers, new and old, I hope you enjoy this as well!  
**

**The universities mentioned are also fictional because generic university FTW.  
**

**Love, Jayy/Nerdgirl-Hime  
**


	2. Chapter 2: Tonight

**2 - Tonight, Eternity's an Open Door**

The night Berwald moved to Berlin, he and Francis went out for a celebratory drink. They talked, drank, and made merry without getting too shitfaced, and by the time they were done, it was well past midnight.

They were attempting to find a taxi to take back to Berwald's apartment when the tall blonde tripped over something smack dab in the middle of the street.

"Whad'da fuck?" he slurred, readjusting his crooked glasses.

At their feet was a young man who appeared to be about Berwald's age. His face was alcohol-reddened, bits of God-knows-what hanging off the corners of his mouth, and had probably vomited on his clothes more than once.

It was disgusting, to say the least.

But, and maybe it was simply the effect known as "beer goggles," there was some sort of light shining under all the hoodlum abhorrence: a youthful, cherub-like face, angelic even in its intoxication, with parted lips and pale eyelashes, emanating a sad kindness which wrenched at Berwald's gut and clutched at his heart. Maybe that was why he had reached out towards this young drunkard as Francis attempted to hail a cab, and helped him up.

Those pretty eyelashes fluttered open, and Berwald got a minute glimpse of shockingly beautiful violet eyes, then those eyes closed as the young drunkard's head fell onto Berwald's shoulder. Francis had finally succeeded in getting a cab, and they flimsily ushered their mysterious new friend into the back seat.

"What do we do?" asked Berwald. They couldn't just leave him on the street, and neither of them wanted to take this mangy man home.

"Driver, can you take us to Hotel Landrut, please?" Francis asked. "We can leave him there and walk to your place. There's a shop nearby where we can get him some clothes."

The cab took them to Hotel Landrut. Berwald and their mysterious friend checked in and waited in the lobby until Francis returned with a cheap touristy T-shirt and sweatpants. Both of them had pretty much sobered up by then, and they laid the strange man on the hotel bed, placing the clothes on the chair. Before they left, Berwald took the complimentary memo pad and pen and scribbled something down on it. Francis looked over his shoulder and smiled, silently producing one of his magic business cards from his pocket. They lay the note by his clothes, along with the card, and bid their silent goodbyes to their mysterious friend.

**XxX**

Tino woke up the next morning in an unfamiliar place smelling of whiskey and vomit. He sat up slowly, his body aching in protest, and looked around. _Where the hell am I?_ he wondered, _and how am I going to get home?_ His memories of last night were no more than vague, smoky fragments. He remembered drinking. He remembered throwing up a couple times. He remembered the shadows of two older men, one of them with eyes as sharp and green as sea glass. He looked down at his clothes, crusty, wrinkled, and so downright ruined that not even a hobo would want to be seen in them. _I can't go home like this. Is there laundry service here, or...?_

His gaze wandered to the chair across the room. A clean, albeit tacky, T-shirt and matching sweatpants were draped over the back. Balanced precariously on top of the clothing were two pieces of paper. He stepped out of his clothes and picked them up, inspecting them. One was a business card for some modeling agency called "Image". The other was a note, torn from the complimentary pad of paper inside the hotel room's desk drawer, with two short, simple sentences written in faint, neat script.

"There are many paths. Your life isn't over."

Tino tucked the card and the note into the pocket of his new sweatpants and pulled the T-shirt over his head.

For the first time in a long while, Tino let out a true smile.

**XxX**

Despite his hangover, he was able to make his way back to his apartment. When he got home, he showered, changed, and pulled out the card and note once more.

_Maybe whoever left this was trying to tell me something,_ he thought, twiddling the card between his fingers. _Maybe Himmel University isn't the only path open to me. _

He vaguely remembered a time when he was very young and driving to Denmark with his family. His father's apparent inability to read maps had thrown their trip completely off-path and they had gotten lost and ended up in Bavaria, the exact opposite direction of where they wanted to go. Tino's mother had freaked out quite a bit, her perfect vacation thrown off-course, but in the end, they had as perfect a vacation as they would have in Denmark. Tino guessed it was sort of like that, but on a larger scale.

He admired his reflection in the window behind him. Now that he had cleaned himself up, he was kind of a good-looking guy. He would even dare to say that he was rather handsome. _Hmm, I could get into modeling,_ he thought, _I could do a lot of things. I could be a radiologist..._ His musings grew more and more optimistic as a smile spread across his face, making him look even more handsome in the mirror. This was the most positive he had been in months! In his elation, he grabbed his cell phone and dialed the number on the business card.

"_Image_ modeling, you're speaking to Francis, how can I help you?"

Tino cleared his throat. "My name is Tino, and I was recommended to find a job here by one of your employees," he could have sworn he heard a small chuckle coming from the other end of the line, "and I'm interested in taking up a job modeling."

Francis seemed excited. "Ah, _oui_! Can you come in next Monday at noon?"

"Yes, I'll be there!"

Francis laughed, a musical sound coming from the receiver. "Excellent! I'll see you then!" he said, then hung up.

Tino leaned back on his couch, satisfied, feeling as if a door had opened to him._ I may or may not get the job, _he realized, _I should enroll in University, too._

Himmel University had been his first choice, but there was a second-choice university he had thought about. Kunze University of Berlin. _If I recall correctly, I can still sign up to take the entrance exams! I'd better hurry!_

He found his laptop computer and signed up online. The exam was going to be on Monday morning, he had to study quick!

It was as if a sudden surge of new life had filled his veins. _Look at me,_ he giggled, taking out his notes and study materials, _I've already found two new paths! How could I have gotten so depressed earlier?_

Glancing at the card and the note, he picked them up and tucked them into his personal planner. _Thank you, whoever you are. _

* * *

**AN: Oops, another one. Let's hope I actually update at a decent pace this time around, ok?  
And let's hope this story is decent. I've got some expectations to live up to. Namely, the ones I accidentally set with _Top Model_. :P  
****Chapter title blatantly stolen from _Euphoria_. Which was actually what I wanted to title this fic, and I wanted to have all the chapter names be lyrics from the song, until I found another fic with the same title. /cries  
**


	3. Chapter 3: First Step

**3 - First Step**

Monday morning. 6:15 AM.

Tino woke up, made himself a big breakfast of pancakes, bacon, and a tall glass of orange juice, showered, pulled on his most comfortable pair of jeans, packed his pencils, erasers, and calculator in his bag, and was off to Kunze University by 7. The test was set to start at 7:30. He definitely had time.

He was more than ready for exams this time around. Unlike last time, he got a good night's sleep every night. He ate well. He went over all his notes and such with precision, committing everything he needed to memory, and promptly at 9:30, when the exam ended, he strode out into the sunshine, chest puffed out proudly.

The feeling of elation running through his veins brought him higher than anything else could have. He was walking on air. He even took some time to stroll down to his preferred café and have an early lunch.

Now that his exams were over, there was just one more thing he had to do.

**XxX**

That Monday, at around noon, there was a new face at _Image_'s door. Berwald noticed this as he and Francis came out to bring a cup of coffee to the building's receptionist, a calm and composed young woman named Mona who everyone liked to talk to. The newcomer was a young man, small but lean, with gossamer hair the exact color of pure beach sand framing a cherubic face.

He was vaguely familiar, but he couldn't place a finger on it. Francis seemed to know who he was, though, waving the young man over excitedly.

"Who is this?" Berwald whispered.

Francis chuckled knowingly. "Remember that young man we rescued from the street the other night?"

Berwald gasped. He knew exactly who Francis was talking about. He gave the newcomer a good once-over, pressing his glasses to his face and furrowing his brows to get a better view. He really needed to get new glasses. It was surely the mystery drunkard from the other night. He had cleaned himself up; he was almost so unrecognizable, he could have been a completely different person if not for the familiar angelic face and sparkling violet eyes, matching the ones emblazoned in his memory. _If he stopped making that terrified squirrel expression, he'd be cute,_ Berwald thought bemusedly, unaware that he was the very one making the mystery drunk quake in his high-top shoes.

Francis stepped forward with an inviting smile, coaxing the shorter blonde to relax. "Hello Tino_,_" he said with a flourish, "how can we help you?"

"Uh... Yeah..." Mystery Drunk brushed his bangs out of his face and gave Francis and Berwald an uneasy smile, holding out an all-too-familiar business card. "My name's Tino Väinämöinen, and, er... I came to apply to be a model."

Francis put a hand on Tino's shoulder, an attempt to calm the nervous wreck of a man down. "I think you could do it," he said reassuringly, then turned to Berwald. "Ber, can you go get Ludwig?"

Berwald nodded and stalked off. Francis turned back to Tino. "Don't be too scared of him, _mon cher. _Berwald's a good man."

Tino realized that he was shaking in his sneakers and willed himself to calm down. He was nervous. Everything was making him nervous, especially the way that Berwald fellow was glaring at him like he was a lion glaring at its prey. _How could someone like that be a "good man"? _he wondered, terrified.

"He's actually one of our best models," Francis continued, "everyone loves him."

This fact simply flew beyond Tino's comprehension, and he jumped in his spot when Berwald returned, another man at his side, almost as tall and twice as buff. Francis greeted the newcomer warmly. "Tino, this is Ludwig, he is what you call the 'head honcho' around here."

"Very pleased to meet you," Ludwig stated, holding out a meaty hand for Tino to shake.

"Ludwig, this is Tino, he's interested in becoming a model here, what do you think?" Francis asked with a grin.

Ludwig stared hard at Tino. He felt like he was naked, under the scrutiny of the public, even though he wore a hoodie and stylish skinny jeans which showed off his lean legs. After about a minute of this, the hard line of Ludwig's lips curled into a satisfied smile and he clapped Tino on the back.

"Welcome to _Image,_ model. You'll be training with Berwald, starting today."

Tino felt his stomach sink to the center of the Earth.

**XxX**

"So, your name's Berwald, right?"

Berwald and Tino walked down the long, bright, carpeted corridor, Berwald leading the way. _I have to be more open, Francis told me..._ He thought uneasily. It wasn't very often he had to work with new people. In fact, it was pretty much never. He looked down at Tino, a reply already on the tip of his tongue, but when he locked his gaze with soft violet eyes, the words died and all that came out was a throaty, "Hmmnh."

"Well," Tino continued, voice fading and eyes going wide, "Uh... How long have you been a model?" he asked, attempting to keep the conversation going.

"Two years now," he replied tersely. Every other second or so, he would glance at Tino out of the corner of his eye. It was impossible to believe that the awful drunk from the before was the exact same person as the beautiful boy next to him. Long eyelashes, pouty lips, high arched brows... Berwald wanted to touch his face. Or at least compliment him.

Tino tried again. "Two years, eh? How old are you?"

"Eighteen."

Tino gasped. "Really? We're the same age, then! Wow, I would have thought that you were older! I mean, not that you look old or anything, but..." he trailed of into silence when he noticed Berwald's stern stare fixed on him.

"We're here," said Berwald.

He had led Tino to _Image_'s Studio B, one of three smaller studios usually reserved for meetings, smaller photoshoots which heavily relied on digital retouching, or solo practice. Mirrors lined three out of four of the walls, the last one being a huge window of one-way glass opening to a view of the city. "This's where we'll work," he said.

"Oh, wow!" Tino's inhibitions seemed to have loosened as he ran across the hardwood, entranced by the view from the window. "This is so amazing!"

"Mm."

Berwald stood back and watched Tino flit around the room, trying to get different views of Berlin's afternoon skyline through the window. _He has a lot of energy,_ he observed, _and he scares easily._ He smiled. That part was kind of cute.

"Berwald, take a look at this!" Tino called over, pointing at the ledge of a building a few blocks away. "There's like, a million birds on that building! Isn't that cool?" He looked up and their eyes met in pensive silence. Tino's excited features softened, eyelids hooding and lips stretching into a gentle smile. "You know," he said softly, "you're not as scary when you smile." Right as the words passed from his lips into the air around them, he jolted back and turned away. "Sorry!" he cried, "I'm so sorry! We just met and I shouldn't be saying stuff like that! I insulted you, right? I'm so sorry!"

_Nothing to be afraid of,_ Berwald wanted to say, _you didn't insult me._ Instead, he reached over and lay a large hand on Tino's shoulder, trying to reassure him. Rather than calm him down, however, Tino let out another cry and froze, terror painted on his face as clear as day.

Berwald sighed. "We should get started.

* * *

**AN: Oh snap I actually put up a new chapter.  
Watch me actually try to get somewhere with this. It'll be funny. Except not for me. :P  
It's kind of hard, I'm trying to make it a bit more serious, but it just reverts back to being kind of light and funny.  
I'm wondering if I should get my boyfriend to beta it. I'm already beta'ing his fanfic so it'd be a fair trade...? lol.**


	4. Chapter 4: You're a Model

**4 - You're A Model**

"Hold yer head up higher."

"Keep yer chest out."

"Don' slouch."

"Don' stick out yer butt like that."

Tino listened and obeyed as Berwald's words surrounded him, his commands curling his body into the desired shapes and poses. It was probably the most he had heard Berwald talk all day, and yet, for some strange, inexplicable reason, he wasn't terrified. The man had an accent–Swedish, Tino thought–and mumbled a bit, prompting Tino to shyly ask him to repeat himself, constantly under the worry that this powerhouse of a man would maybe blow up, maybe cuss him out in his foreign tongue, and maybe wring his neck with those powerful hands of his.

He let out a terrified yelp when he felt the same powerful hands settle on his body–one on his lower back and the other on his stomach. "Shh," mumbled Berwald, "not gonna hurt ya."

"Sorry, I was just thinking a bit and you surprised me," Tino twittered.

"Focus. Relax."

Berwald's words faded into a blurry oblivion as Tino's focus drifted to the hands on his back and stomach. They were warm, gentle, exerting soft pressure to get him to stand up straight but no more than that. Looking closer, he realize that they were more like the paws of a large dog than violent vices. Maybe a basset hound... _I can definitely see him as a basset,_ Tino thought with a small chuckle.

"Are ya listenin' to me?"

That gravelly voice, accompanied by that fear-inducing glare, dispelled any and all pleasant thoughts of basset hounds from Tino's mind. "Er... yes?"

The fear-inducing glare became a guilt-inducing roll of sea-green eyes behind horn-rimmed glasses. Tino tried again. "I'm so sorry... I got distracted by the, er... By the birds outside, yeah."

Berwald obviously did not believe a single word of Tino's excuse, but he sighed and let it slide. "'S okay. I was j'st tellin' ya t'keep yer back straight."

Tino nodded, relieved. _I don't think he hates me, but I should keep on my toes..._

**XxX**

Maybe an hour or two had passed when Berwald started feeling a little peckish. He found himself wondering whether the vending machine outside had any decent snacks. He had a few Euros in his pocket, he could go for something to eat.

"Enough for now," he said, jingling the coins in his pocket. "There's a snack m'chine down th' hall. Want t' get something?"

Tino looked down. "You can, if you want. I don't have any money on me," he replied quietly, a tad embarrassed.

"I'll pay."

"Oh no, I can't make you do that!" Tino laughed nervously, "we just met, after all!"

"Don' worry 'bout it. Let's go." Berwald took Tino by the hand and led him out of the room, face flaming. _I could have phrased that better,_ he kicked himself mentally, _he probably thinks I'm a freak or something._

He could feel Tino's fingers wiggling against the palm of his hand and–

Wait. Was Tino holding his hand?

Or was it the other way around?

His palms were sweaty.

_This is awkward,_ he thought, _do I keep holding on or do I let go?_

Luckily for Berwald, they reached the vending machine quickly enough. Tino chose the cheapest snack he could see that wasn't gum–_bless his heart,_ thought Berwald–and Berwald chose one of those packaged danishes wrapped in plastic. Francis always said that they were godawful and loaded with preservatives, but Berwald really didn't give two shits about his weight when he'd be burning it off at Taekwondo class in a couple hours anyway.

They sat down on a bench flanked by a pair of fake plants and ate. Berwald idly wondered if Tino was scared of him. It wouldn't be the first time someone had balked at his appearance.

He caught his reflection in the window of the snack machine. Compared to Tino, yeah, he was a big guy, broad-shouldered, muscles well-defined from years of martial arts, a huge step up from the grumbly, gangly kid he'd been. Tino, on the other hand, looked like your average guy. Average height, average body type, nothing especially special about him save for his face, which looked like it belonged on a marble statue or an angel. Even after knowing him for only a short time, Berwald admired Tino's honesty. He thought back to the "smile" comment the shorter man had made earlier which had literally just fallen from his mouth with barely a restraining thought holding it back. It was something he wished he could be.

"Hey, aren't you eating?"

Tino's question snapped Berwald back to reality. He glanced down at the danish.

"Yeah," he replied, taking another bite.

"Are those good?" Tino asked curiously, "I've never eaten a prepackaged pastry before. I always get them at my mom's shop."

Berwald swallowed his bite and tore off an unbitten section of his danish. _Here goes nothing,_ he thought, steeling himself. He cracked the friendliest smile he could muster and held out the piece of pastry. "Wanna try some?"

"Oh no, I can't impose on you like that," Tino said.

_Well, that was stupid. But one of the tenets in Taekwondo is perseverance, so I might as well try again._ "Please?" he asked, still trying to sustain his smile.

This time, Tino smiled back and took the offered morsel. "Well, if you say so," he said.

A feeling of pride welled up in Berwald. It was like he was Snow White, being able to coax small animals to be his friends!

"Gosh, Berwald," Tino said, eating the piece of danish, "thanks for everything."

"Yer welcome," Berwald replied. He finished the rest of his pastry and they walked back together to Studio B.

**XxX**

The rest of the day went without a hitch, save for random points where that look would appear on Berwald's face and scare Tino shitless. Come five o'clock, Tino left _Image_ and boarded the metro home, wedging his way between people ending their day or beginning their night, peeking through the crowd for an empty seat or handle and finding none. _I hate rush hour,_ he griped to himself, spreading his feet out in an attempt to keep his balance in the middle of the moving train.

He had a new job now, as well as a fast-lane ticket to one of Berlin's oldest universities. Sure, it was no Himmel University, but he had heard good things about Kunze, and there was a reason it was his second choice. Where the path to Himmel University had closed, two new paths had opened. Tino couldn't really consider himself unlucky anymore. Chuckling, he quietly wondered why he had ever been so narrow-minded. It was great.

His new "job," if it could be called that yet, was pretty great, too. Even Berwald, who was as scary as an axe murderer in a dark alleyway, wasn't too terribly bad. The building was really swell, too, and aside from Berwald, everyone else was incredibly friendly. _Well, I guess even Berwald's a bit friendly,_ he corrected himself, stepping off the train at his stop, _maybe if he smiled a bit more and got different glasses, he'd even be really handsome... Oop!_ he caught himself before that thought went too far. _Yeah, right. I'd run around in public in my aunt's horse-bottomed pants before I'd even consider dating that goliath. Then again,_ he thought back to Berwald's smile, _he is kinda cute..._

**XxX**

_That... Was not a train wreck!_

Berwald raised his leg, bringing his heel down in a swift axe kick to the training pad his partner was holding.

"You're already a second _dan_, you can kick higher than that."

Berwald nodded and wiped beads of sweat from his brow with the sleeve of his uniform. Why they still had to wear these thick, heavy uniforms with long sleeves and long pants in the heat of July was beyond him. His training partner, a third degree black belt named Ivan, raised the pad, holding it level with Berwald's head, and prompted him to kick. Berwald stretched a long leg up, straining to bend his hip, and when he brought it down, his foot barely even scraped the pad. _I overextended,_ he thought with a grunt, clutching his aching hip.

"Try again," Ivan said.

With a growl, Berwald focused on the pad, raised his leg again, and sliced it down with such force that he knocked the pad out of his partner's grip, sending it to the floor with a soft clatter.

Ivan smiled and picked up the pad. "Good job. Now try your other leg."

Berwald nodded and switched feet, doing as his partner guided him. He was completely focused on perfecting this particularly high axe kick–It was better than focusing on his own problems.

For Berwald, Taekwondo was his salvation; an escape from the feelings he couldn't express. He was completely focused on honing his body to perfection, not some awful internal problem he couldn't even wrap his head around.

But, as he changed back into his civilian clothes, stowed away his uniform, and bid goodbye to his instructor for the night, an all-too-familiar feeling, one he had not felt since he was a sullen sixteen-year-old with a baseball bat, crept into the corners of his mind.

It terrified him.

On the walk home, he recalled Tino. Honest, sweet, inhumanly adorable. It had been the first time in a while since Francis and Ludwig (who didn't count anyway because he was bigger and buffer than him) that anyone had voluntarily stayed around him this long without "going to the bathroom and never coming back" or outright eschewing him. He would even go so far as to consider their time together a success. _How would Francis put it? We "hit it off?" Yes, that's right._

But.

He knew Tino did not like him, no matter how much he wanted Tino to like him. Nothing would erase that terrified expression from his face, and that thought made him want to _break _something.

_No. _

He studied his reflection in the glass a storefront window, the store inside dark and bathed in shadow.

_ I had this under control. _

He balled up his fists and stuffed them in his pockets.

_ Stop._

He walked on, pace quickening, pushing through the evening crowds of people flooding the city streets.

_Self-control. Perseverance. I can do this. _

He approached his apartment, impatiently tapping his foot on the floor of the elevator as he ascended home.

_ I can't disappoint him._

..._Disappoint who?_

Berwald stood in his apartment alone, casting his gaze around as if the answer to that question would come to him.

It was then he noticed that his hands had completely relaxed.

* * *

**AN: Ahhh. Look, another chapter! Kinda...?  
Anyway, I tried. :) I'll keep trying, too. There'll be another chapter soon.  
Also, the way things are going now makes me think that this fic is going to be a long one. Probably longer than _Top Model_ was, too.  
Bear with me, dearies! 3 My muse feeds off of your love. **


	5. Chapter 5: Pushing

**5 - Pushing**

The next week, a letter arrived for Tino.

He had been accepted into Kunze University.

Tino's cry of "Yes!" could be heard from a block away.

**XxX**

It had been about a week since Tino had first shown his face at _Image_. Since then, he had been at the studio almost every day. Berwald knew this better than most; after all, throughout that week, they had been inseparable.

And yet, there had not been one time where Tino had not borne the expression of a terrified squirrel.

_I wonder if there's anything I'm doing wrong,_ he wondered, fastening his black belt around his waist and adjusting the crisp, white uniform.

He stepped out onto the foam-matted floor of the dojang. Master Im was not roaming the floor; Berwald assumed he was probably having a snack in the back room. _Lots of people today,_ he noticed.

People of all ages–from child to teenager, from adult to elderly–were crowding the floor, all sporting the signature white cotton uniforms of the martial art of TaeKwonDo and various colored belts. Berwald spotted a young green belt boy, unsteadily performing a series of movements, pausing occasionally with an expression of stress on his face.

"Pet'r," he said, approaching the boy and patting him on the head. "You here alone today?"

Peter stopped, slid his feet together and dropped his hands to his sides, and bowed to Berwald, as was customary when greeting a senior rank. "Yes sir," he replied, rising. "Arthur is tired so I came by myself."

"Mm," Berwald grunted, "So are ya workin' on yer form now?"

"Yes sir! The test is in two weeks!" Peter chimed.

"What's the name of your form?"

"Yul-gok!"

"Very good," Berwald smiled, resuming the form's ready position next to Peter. "I'll do it with you. _Joom-bi,_" he commanded.

Peter planted his feet into the ground, hands fisted in front of his belt.

"_Shi-jak._"

They went through the form together twice before class started, Berwald coaching and encouraging Peter as they went.

"I still suck," Peter approached Berwald during their water break. "And the test is in two weeks!" He sat down next to the water cooler, head in his hands.

Berwald knelt down so he was eye level with the boy. "No, y' don't. Perfection doesn't happen all in a day. That's why y' still have two weeks left b'fore the test. Baby steps, Pet'r."

Peter nodded. "Only if you help me," he said quietly.

"I will."

**XxX**

Tino stared at the letter in his hands.

He turned it over, once, twice, three times.

He read it over and over, even inspecting the signature at the end and the watermark behind the letters.

He touched it to his face.

This letter was the real deal, he really had been accepted into Kunze University, the second-best university in all of Germany, and had to choose his classes ASAP because school started in a month!

Tino did the only thing applicable to a situation like this: he threw himself onto his bed and rolled around, giddily squealing and laughing and clutching the letter to his chest.

After a few minutes, he calmed down and lay on his bed. _This is awesome!_ he thought, sighing happily, _I am a model and I am officially going to college and..._ he leapt up, eyes wide. _I gotta find my diploma!_

He scrambled around his apartment. There were still boxes that had been left packed, it had to be in one of those.

It wasn't.

Now, he sat among his stuff, strewn haphazardly around his apartment. "Come on, Tino. Think. Where could you have left it? What happened when you graduated..."

_Oh!_

He smacked his forehead.

His diploma was right where he left it, at his parents' house, under his old bed.

_Way to go, dumbass, _he thought, picking up the phone to call his mother.

**XxX**

Talking to kids was very different from talking to adults. Kids never thought Berwald was scary, or intimidating, or evil. They approached him freely and even tried to climb up his legs or swing from his arms, which is why Berwald made it a point to take whoever asked him under his wing. He already had several self-proclaimed protégés.

While Berwald liked kids, his favorite part about Taekwondo was how the adults had treated him, especially when he was first starting out. They kicked him down without hesitation, only to help him back up without hesitation as well. Especially Ivan and Master Im, who pushed and pushed him to work his way up the ranks to become one of the best students in the school and continued to push him. Their pushing had not only affected Berwald's body. He was being pushed to become a better person. Their pushing had made him push himself to become who he was today.

As he watched Peter work on his form again, Berwald wondered where he would be if he hadn't started Taekwondo at Francis's suggestion. Certainly not wearing the uniform of a second-degree black belt.

"Longer front stance," he called out, "and don't turn too much for the groin block."

These were all very small details. Peter already had a great front stance and groin block. _Maybe I'm pushing it,_ he thought.

"Thank you, sir!" said Peter, stopping his form to smile at Berwald.

Berwald smiled back. _Then again, he could use a little push forward, too._

Class ended and soon he was back on the street, pacing home and letting his mind wander.

It wandered to the thought of Tino, as it had often been doing for the last week-or-so. He really didn't know how he felt about the smaller man. _I mean, I like him. He's a good guy, but... Why is he on my mind so much?_

He remembered how absolutely taken he was with the young man when they first met. Not at the modeling studio, but on the street. Normally, Berwald would have tried to get away from such a disturbingly despondent man, but there was something in Tino that drew him in, like a moth to a light. _He's kind,_ he noted, _openly so. It's admirable._

_What if I pushed myself to be as kind as he?_

**XxX**

"Yes. Have you checked again? It should still be there."

"..."

"No, mom, I didn't take it with me. I tried searching for it today."

"..."

"Please mom? Can you check again? I really need–Oh, you found it? That's wonderful! Thank you, mom! I'll pick it up tomorrow, okay? Love you!"

Tino cradled his phone and sighed contentedly. Thankfully, his diploma had been found and would be back in his hands within the next day.

He had barely turned to leave when the phone rang again. He picked it up. "Hello?"

"Tino? This is Francis. It's pretty urgent."

"Yeah? What is it?" Tino could feel the tension in his superior's voice, even over the phone. It was clear that he was wigging out; it made Tino nervous as well.

"I know you've only been with us for maybe a week and I know you've been working hard and I know you're definitely not ready for this, but... _Mon dieu_, it's so hard to say this, but..."

Tino was quickly growing fed up with Francis's stuttering. "Tell me, already!" he snapped into the phone. From the other end, he could hear a small, strange sob and a sigh.

"Yes, _mon cher,_ I am so sorry if I angered you, it's just that..." another sigh, "one of our best models, Natalya Arlovskaya, suddenly quit. She was going to do the cover of this month's issue of 'Nerdular'–it's this science/fashion hybrid magazine that seems to be popular with young people nowadays–and the shoot is in two days and you are my last hope, Tino! Please, _aide-moi, s'il te plaît!_"

Tino's eyes widened. "So, um... What do you need me to do?" He already had a pretty good idea of what Francis was asking of him.

"I need you to model for us, Tino!"

His immediate reaction was to yell back, "I can't do that!"

"Please, Tino! We really need you! It's already too late to turn them down!"

Francis seemed like he was on the verge of tears. _I can't do this!_ Tino clutched the receiver to his chest. _I can't let them down, either..._ He could almost see the faces of his friends at _Image_: Francis would be despondent, Ludwig would be enraged, and Berwald...

_Oh God._

He would lose whatever small amount of respect Berwald had for him, that was for sure. Maybe he would snap and cuss him out or even try to hit him, maybe he would spend the rest of their time together loathing him in chilling silence. The thin ice their so-called friendship walked on would suffer and break, maybe even crashing Tino's modeling career before it began. He slowly brought the receiver to his ear.

"Francis?"

"_Oui,_ Tino?"

Tino sighed. "I'll do it."

* * *

**AN: BAM new chapter. I'm getting there, slowly but surely. **

**Thank you for all the kind words~  
**


	6. Chapter 6: One More Failure

**6 - One More Failure**

"Now, I know this is your first shoot," Francis said excitedly, hands on Tino's shoulders, "but I'm going to need you to get yourself out there and just do it, okay?"

Tino could only nod dumbly–he was so in shock. Everyone bustled around the photo studio as they passed through, barely even saying "excuse me" as they pulled up lights and wheeled around what looked like massive black umbrellas. There was a windowless back room, lined with salmon-colored wallpaper and brightly lit by a massive vanity overflowing with all sorts of makeup. On the other side of the room was a coffee machine, sink, full-length mirror, and two very comfortable-looking couches. As Tino was passed between people who glopped makeup on him or forced him into different clothes, he realized that he had rushed out of the house without his morning coffee, and those couches looked _very_ inviting.

Before he knew it, he was back in Francis's hands once more, now dressed in a short-sleeved plaid button-down, cargos, and suspenders. Completing the ensemble was an off-white bow tie. His face felt heavy and clogged, and his hair was stiff and sticky with hairspray. Francis spun him by his shoulders so he could look at himself in the full-length mirror.

"You look absolutely amazing, _mon cher_!" he cooed, "so cute and nerdy!"

_Absolutely horrendous is more like it,_ Tino noted in shock. "What happened to my face?" He leaned in and studied his reflection carefully. His eyes looked bigger. His cheeks had taken on an airbrushed reddish hue. His lips were a pale pink and glimmered with gloss. "I look like a girl!"

"Nonsense," Francis assured him, "you are dazzling. Adorable. The girls will go wild for you. The boys, too," he added with a wink.

Berwald's face floated into Tino's mind just as Francis spoke. He wrinkled his nose.

"Now now, don't want to mess up your makeup," Francis tapped Tino lightly between his eyes. From his pocket, the frenchman extracted a pair of non-prescription glasses with thick tortoiseshell frames and slid them onto Tino's face. "There. Now you are complete."

Tino looked at himself in the mirror again. "I look like somebody's grandpa in drag," he commented dully.

"That attitude is going to show on camera if you keep talking like that," scolded Francis, "Now go! _Allez allez!_" He nudged Tino onto the stage.

Tino blinked and squinted, trying to adjust to the incredible light. It was as if he were standing before a thousand suns. He blinked, his vision finally returning.

The stage was a slightly raised white platform with a white backdrop in a windowless cement room. Surrounding Tino were strategically placed black photographic umbrellas and several photographers from _Nerdular_ on cherry pickers enabling them to get him at all angles. But what struck Tino the most was the ridiculous amount of people in the room; not just the photographers, but their assistants, _Image_'s assistants, even some of the other models who had nothing to do with the shoot! Tino was getting dizzy. The lights were hot and, with so many eyes and lenses focusing on him, he was crawling in his skin.

_Who's that in the back?_

He squinted more, trying to focus past the lights on the darkened rear of the room. Sitting in metal folding chairs regarding the barely controlled chaos before them were three very familiar figures.

Ludwig, Francis, and–ulp!

Berwald!

_I can't do this,_ Tino's shoulders slumped in resignation as he gaped at Berwald. It was as if his worst fears were about to come true. _I'm going to lose whatever small amount of respect Berwald has for me. He might snap and cuss at me, maybe even try to hit me. The thin ice our so-called friendship walks on is going to break, and word of my failure is going to spread and my modeling career is going to be over before it began. I can't even back out now... What's that?_

It was Berwald, still glaring as intently at him as ever. But his posture had changed, just a little bit. He was giving Tino two thumbs up.

**XxX**

"He looks like a squirrel," Ludwig observed aloud.

Francis let out a disappointed sigh. "_Oui,_" he replied, "and I had such hopes for this shoot... I'm sorry, Berwald."

Berwald shook his head. He sat in the back of _Image_'s photo studio with Ludwig and Francis, hoping to watch Tino's shoot. This was the culmination of that one week he spent coaching Tino. _Which actually isn't a long time, at all,_ Berwald realized in shock. It had felt like such a long time. _Tino can do this, though. He's been doing so well..._ He looked up at Tino, shaking on the stage as desperate camerapeople urged him to just _do something_.

"We might have to take him down," Ludwig muttered despondently as Tino cast his eyes around the room.

"No," Berwald answered, "He just needs t' get used to it, 's his first time." He looked back at the stage. _He just needs a little push, that's all._

Of course, yelling words of encouragement at the shaking man on the stage was out of the question for Berwald. There had to be a nonverbal gesture he could do. He pushed his arms straight out, sticking his thumbs up. _You can do this, Tino! Just try!_ he urged mentally, hoping his feelings were strong enough for Tino to get them as psychic waves or something like that.

Oh God. Tino was looking at him. Fighting the urge to glare, he met Tino's gaze only to see a small smile creating dimples in his cherubic cheeks. Tino visibly relaxed and stood up straight and proud.

"Sorry about the wait," he said politely, "I'm ready now."

_What do you know?_ Berwald thought amusedly, _Maybe I am psychic, after all._

**XxX**

The cameras snapped maybe two or three decent pictures before things started going downhill.

_Hold yer head up higher._

The voice inside his head commanding him was not his. It was deep, heavily accented, yet superfluous, like the music of a cello.

_ Keep yer chest out._

Tino couldn't suppress his shudder when he realized that it was Berwald's voice inside his head, commanding his body to open up to the camera.

_ Don' slouch._

The lights were bright and dizzying, and he could hardly make out what was being yelled at him past the throbbing in his head and Berwald's voice. Everything hurt. He was thirsty.

_ Don' stick out yer butt like that._

He could feel himself tiring and wavering. He knew he was losing his ground. He squinted and slouched. He couldn't do this anymore. Every picture that was taken was worse than the one before it, and he was too tired to stop it and the bad thoughts that accompanied.

_ Smile._

That was a new one. Tino's lips curled into a weak smile, lasting for only a couple seconds before he went limp, Ludwig declaring the shoot over.

**XxX**

Pretending to be asleep was Tino's favorite way of eavesdropping when he was a child.

Right as the shoot ended, Tino dozed off. The chaos of the morning had tired him out.

He lay on the couch in the dressing room, eyes closed and breathing gently from between parted lips. He looked comatose, but his ears were completely alert and awake. Opening his eyes a slit, he could see the back of Francis's legs. He was standing with Berwald and Ludwig, talking about Tino's shoot.

"_Je suis desolé,_" Francis pleaded, "but we had to do this, we couldn't just turn them down!"

"It was too soon fer Tino, too," added Berwald, "only a week into trainin' and he has t' do a magazine shoot? I was in trainin' fer a full year before m' first shoot!"

_First time I've heard him talk that much,_ thought Tino.

"There has to be a couple good pictures in there. They took so many," implored Francis, "when he wakes up, we can all meet Mr. Von Bock and sort through them. Please?"

Tino had to suppress a smile. Berwald and Francis were working so hard for him, despite the fact that he had most likely completely botched this shoot.

"J'st please, don't fire Tino, he's workin' so hard!" Berwald begged.

Ludwig sighed. "Relax. I'm not going to fire anyone. It was a stupid idea, having him do a shoot so soon."

Francis gulped audibly.

"Anyway," continued Ludwig, "I'm going to talk to Mr. Von Bock. Bring Tino around to the conference room when he wakes up." Muffled clomps of rubber against carpet signaled Ludwig's departure. Faint scuffles followed, indicating that Francis was on his way out of the room as well.

Berwald was still there, though. He couldn't bring himself to open his eyes only to find the look of disappointment on the other man's face. He stayed still for a long time, still pretending to sleep, all the while thinking, _go away, go away, go away..._ Yet Berwald stayed. Tino gave up and sat upright, pretending to rub his eyes and yawn.

"Yer awake?"

Tino nodded sleepily. "What happened?"

Berwald sighed. "Y' fell asleep," he answered choppily, "We need ya to come down to th' computer lab, so wash yerself off and follow me."

As Tino scrubbed makeup off his face and changed back into his normal clothes, he noted Berwald standing silently by the door. The man seemed to brood, the crease between slanted brows deep as a canyon. It made him look all the more terrifying, but at the same time, Tino couldn't help but feel a little relieved. Berwald had not snapped at him, and even went so far as to stand up for him.

_Maybe there's something more,_ he wondered, drying his face off with a grimy towel and following Berwald out of the room.

**XxX**

As they walked down to the computer lab, Berwald occasionally peeked at Tino out of the corner of his eye. He dared not make conversation for fear of saying something wrong; the sullen and downcast look on his face took all the color out of his pretty eyes and the fullness of his lips was the quintessential picture of gut-wrenching nervousness. Instead, he

When Eduard started sifting through the pictures, Tino wanted to scream. He looked absolutely horrid in them. No, even worse than horrid. He looked downright ugly. There were so many words to describe his photos: tired, unfocused, unprofessional, uncool. Each and every one of them. The last photo, however, was gorgeous, but it was only one good photo in a mess of bad ones. It wasn't even significant enough to make him feel better.

"We're going to need you to step out of the room for a second, Mr. Väinämöinen," Eduard said grimly, casting shifty glances at Ludwig, Francis, and Berwald, who returned with even shiftier glances. Tino wasn't stupid. They were all judging him, his performance, and his results.

It was all too much for him. He spun on his heel and paced out of the room, tears burning at his eyes.

"Tino, wait! Where 're ya going?"

He ignored Berwald's voice and the footsteps coming after him. They only served to quicken his own pace, and he headed straight for Berlin's U-Bahn subway.

**XxX**

Tino looked over his shoulder for the umpteenth time. Berwald was still following him, and had been following him for the last several blocks, all the while calling out his name. He sprinted down the stairs, and was about to swipe his train pass when Berwald finally caught up to him.

"Tino, I–"

"Leave it, Berwald. I suck, and there's no way you can change my mind." Tino turned his back on Berwald and stepped through the train's gates, becoming just another anonymous face on the Berlin U-Bahn. He could feel Berwald's eyes boring at him through the crowd; eyes filled with pleads and crushed dreams and shame which tore at Tino's insides.

_I am not what you thought I would be, Berwald. I'm sorry._

* * *

**AN: I'm getting there. It's slow goings. Sometimes I don't feel as inspired as I should be, but this AU is so lovely that I really want to keep going. I'm thankful for all your patience and love!  
**


	7. Chapter 7: One More Success

**7 - One More Success**

"It's your fault he ran out," chided Francis, "Really, what are we going to do with these photos...?"

Francis, Berwald, Ludwig, and Eduard sat in the computer lab. Berwald had chased Tino all the way to the U-Bahn station and came back empty-handed to a room thick with tension. Francis was muttering aloud to himself, blaming anyone he could for the ordeal. Ludwig looked like he was about to blow a fuse. Eduard was still studying the photos, his eyes narrowed and his forehead sweaty.

Berwald leaned over to look at the computer Eduard was working on. Tino's photos were all still up. To the untrained eye, they looked nearly perfect, but to professionals such as Ludwig or Francis, there were many things wrong with them. Eduard had taken several shots of Tino yawning, sneezing, or changing poses. In others, he slouched, scrunched his eyebrows, or wrinkled his nose. Berwald smiled. Tino would never cease to be cute, even when looking like this. _The photos are salvageable,_ he mused, _we just need to play our cards right. _His fingers curled into fists, but rather than the usual anger welling up in him, he felt a surge of determination. This was for Tino's sake.

"How m'ny do we need?" asked Berwald.

Eduard stiffened slightly before replying timidly, "We need six..."

Berwald nodded. "This, this, these two, this, 'nd this," he pointed at the photos, "they capture 'im best, I think."

Hearing all the commotion, Francis and Ludwig looked over to see what was going on. Immediately, both their faces lightened up as Berwald explained his plan.

"Berwald, _mon frère,_ you are a genius!" Francis exclaimed.

**XxX**

Several days later, Berwald stood at Tino's apartment door, the newest issue of _Nerdular_ clutched in sweaty hands. Tino hadn't contacted him since his outburst in the U-Bahn, Berwald was sure that Tino wanted nothing to do with him now, but he absolutely _had_ to see this. Part of him just wanted to leave the magazine on Tino's doorstep, ring the buzzer, and make a run for it, but he knew that that would be a cowardly thing to do. He would not give up. He would face Tino like the man he was, and hopefully Tino had given some thought to his actions like the equally manly man Berwald hoped he was and his job would be a lot easier.

He pressed his finger to the buzzer. Slow, heavy steps got louder, the door cracked open, and Tino's face appeared. "Oh. Hi, Ber," he said listlessly, "What do you want?"

Berwald swallowed. "Brought ya somethin'," he mumbled, "Need t' talk t' ya, too. Can I come in?"

Eyeing him warily, Tino nodded and opened the door to let Berwald in. Berwald took note of the apartment: small, clean, and slightly drab. _He must've moved in not too long ago,_ he noted, glancing at the folded cardboard boxes stacked near the door. Tino shuffled over to the attached kitchen. "Have a seat," he motioned to the low-standing couch against one of the walls, "is there anything you want to drink?"

"Coffee's fine," Berwald answered, sitting down. Tino brewed the beverage in silence, and returned to sit next to his co-worker and give him his drink.

"What're you here for?" Tino asked, pulling up his legs under him as Berwald took a sip of the steaming beverage.

Berwald put his cup down. "This," he said, holding the magazine up, "and t' ask y' a couple questions."

"Shoot."

"Why did you leave?"

"It's all my fucking fault, Berwald. You wouldn't understand," Tino couldn't halt the rage spewing from him. He felt sick. Why was he taking this out on Berwald, of all people? "Everyone likes you and you're popular, even though you're terrifying, and..."

Tino's words struck Berwald into silence. _You're terrifying..._ He had heard those words so many times over the course of his life. It didn't surprise him that Tino thought it too, but he'd tried so hard to not frighten Tino that hurt worse than every other time he had been called scary combined.

"Do y' really think this, Tino?" He whispered hoarsely.

It was Tino's turn to be silent. He looked down at his feet.

"Tino, answer me."

His mind raced for something to say, but words escaped him.

Berwald let out a snort. "I worked so hard t' be likeable, Tino. Since I was young. I'm still workin'. Don't make my efforts all for naught." His fists curled and twitched. Tino immediately regret his words; Berwald was going to hit him, but that did not quell the fire in his gut aching to manifest. He clenched his fists as well.

They were at a standoff. Tino wouldn't apologize and Berwald wouldn't back down. Violet eyes met sea green in a furious and piercing glare, simply daring the other to give in.

After moments that seemed like hours, it was Tino who finally caved. "I think you need to leave," he whispered harshly, pointing at the door.

Berwald scowled momentarily before tossing the magazine on Tino's couch and pacing out the door. "I think _you_ should read that," he growled before slamming the door behind him, leaving Tino in silence.

**XxX**

Hands twisted into angry fists, Berwald marched down the sidewalk. He needed to hit something. He needed to let some of this Goddamn stress out.

Dismayed, he noticed that it was Sunday. His Taekwondo school was closed for the day. _Nothing to do but go home, really,_ he brooded, and made his way towards the nearest metro station.

Returning home, he sank down onto his bed face-first. _Why is Tino so difficult?_ _Is it me? Is it him? _He slid off his glasses and tossed them onto his pillow. _I just wanted to be friends... Why is that so hard?_

** XxX**

Tino paced around his living room. He kicked at the pile of flattened boxes near his door. He picked up Berwald's used coffee cup, went into the kitchen, and scrubbed at it until it was sparkling clean. Sighing, he decided to clean the rest of his kitchen as well.

Cleaning always made him feel better. He stood back and surveyed his now-sparkling kitchen, then looked at the clock. Half past ten PM.

It was then he realized that he had school the next day.

* * *

**AN: HOT DIGGEDY DAMN I'M ON A ROLL. I have nine chapters written now!  
The way it goes is that every time I write a chapter, I post a chapter, except I try to stay ahead in my posting and writing so in case I go on another "I can't write" break, I have something to tide people over with. **  
**I feel so energized, though. I was able to crank Chapter 9 out within a couple days, and it's probably one of the longest yet. I'm very excited with the way I'm progressing!  
Share in the excitement with me by reviewing and whatnot, hehe. Have a good weekend, everyone!**


	8. Chapter 8: You're a Good Man, Tino

**8 - You're a Good Man, Tino.**

Modeling was tough work. Being under Berwald's tuition was tough work. School was tough work.

Everything was tough work.

Tino hated it, and it had only been a week since school started.

_How the hell did I ever get into this school?_ he cradled his head in his hands, fingers firmly gripping his skull and slipping through his hair. _It's only been, like, a week and I'm already like this. I bet I just passed the entrance exams as a fluke. How the hell am I supposed to survive like this?_ _What if I have to drop out? I'll be a failure, like I always am! Ugh, Tino, what is wrong with you?_

The thoughts got worse and worse, and the worst part was that he couldn't stop them. Like an avalanche, the smallest amount of self-doubt would trigger a chain of thoughts, each one more despondent than the last, culminating in Tino dropping his head to the library table as hot tears flooded his eyes.

_I hate myself._

He couldn't let anyone see him. He propped up his textbook, covered his head with his arms, and tried to stifle his sniffles and choke back his sobs as best he could.

_ What happened to you, Tino? You were all like, "oh, I'm on a new path, let's go!" And now you're in the school library, crying like a stupid baby. Fuck it, you're an idiot. You're not even a good model, either, dumbass. You should just give up, right now. Come on, do it._

"Tino, that you?"

"Get the fuck away from me, whoever you are." Tino choked back.

There was silence. Tino peeked to see if "whoever" had left him alone.

He hadn't, but that wasn't what shocked Tino into silence.

The man known as "whoever," was in fact his modeling mentor, Berwald Oxenstierna.

**XxX**

When Berwald had gone to the campus library that night to get some reference materials for his Classical Literature paper, he hadn't expected to find Tino at all, let alone bawling his eyes out in a corner of the library. He absolutely had to call out to make sure it was him.

"Tino, that you?"

Tino's response hit him like scalding water. Stunned into silence and immobility, he tried to find a response for "Get the fuck away from me, whoever you are," but before he could do that, Tino turned around.

His eyes were puffy and red. Streaks of dried tears shone on his face. His lips were thin and dry. He looked entirely different from the Tino Berwald knew at _Image_, yet they were one and the same.

"Berwald? What are you doing at Kunze?" he asked warily.

"I'm a student here," Berwald replied, "Why're ya cryin'?"

Tino's features hardened. "None of your business," he spat, turning around and grabbing his textbook. "I'm working. Leave me alone, please."

Berwald sighed. _Don't give up, Berwald. Push yourself._ He sat down in the empty chair next to Tino, who glared at him.

"I thought I told you to leave me alone?"

Berwald shook his head. "Ya look like y' need help." He reached over and took Tino's textbook. "Conics, hm? Hard stuff."

"No kidding," Tino replied, flicking at his pencil. "I never understood this stuff in high school and I sure don't understand it now."

Berwald nodded, but he was already engrossed in the textbook and Tino's work. "I see what ya did here. Silly mistake, these two should be switched in the formula."

"Mm, okay..."

With Berwald's help, Tino was able to finish his homework without any more trouble. He thanked Berwald and moved to pick up his materials to go home.

For Berwald, this could not be. _Push yourself, Berwald. Come on._

"Do ya... wanna go get some coffee or som'thing?" he asked, roughening his voice to hide how shy he was.

Tino looked at him, eyebrows raised. Big behemoth Berwald wanted to take him out for coffee? Right now? A dopey smile spread across his face. "Okay!" He shoved his things in his backpack while Berwald checked out his books, and they were off.

**XxX**

"Actually, log'rithms have been givin' me trouble since high school," said Berwald, "'s not that they're hard, I just can't understand 'em."

Tino and Berwald went to an on-campus café where students liked to go during their off-hours to relax and eat. They sat sipping coffee at a small table near the window, offering them a view of the commons bathed in dark and the shadows of students rushing home from their classes.

"Those aren't so hard," he said, "I could help you sometime if need be."

One corner of Berwald's mouth pulled back into a shy smile. "I c'n help ya with conics too, then."

Tino held up his hands. "Oh no, you're already helping me with modeling and stuff too... I feel like I've been relying too much on you recently," he punctuated his statement with a tentative chuckle.

Berwald shook his head. "I don' mind. I like ya," he said quietly. However, Tino's ears picked up that stifled statement. He averted his eyes as the blood rushed to his face. _Like_ him? Did Berwald really say that? For so long, he was under the notion that Berwald, as his serious demeanor suggested, thought of him as an annoyance, if not worse. He could feel his heartbeat picking up at the thought that Berwald harbored positive feelings towards him.

The sudden silence unnerved Berwald. "Well, uh, if ya don't mind either," he muttered. He took a deep swig of coffee, letting the bitter liquid wash away the dryness in his mouth.

"I don't mind," Tino replied, "I just thought you hated me." He looked at Berwald again, a smile spreading across his face. "I'm so relieved," he began to laugh a little bit and planted his head in his hands. "I thought that you thought I was annoying." He finished off his coffee and Berwald did the same.

"I read the magazine, by the way," Tino said suddenly, "I can't believe they actually published it." He began to chuckle, "'Hot newcomer,' really? I look so silly in a lot of these photos, but it isn't as bad as I'd thought..."

Berwald looked at the magazine and nodded. "Ya got some pretty good reviews afterwards. I think you piqued their interest." He turned his gaze to Tino, who abruptly and inexplicably felt a shiver run up his skin at the sight of those steely aqua eyes. "Y' got potential. No wonder Francis chose ya."

His words aroused suspicion in Tino. "What do you mean, chose?" he asked tentatively, "I didn't meet Francis until I got to _Image_..."

Berwald gave a ragged and hasty cough. "Uh, well..." _I don't think he actually remembers that night..._

"Is there something you're not telling me?" Tino asked, brow raised.

Berwald forced himself to erupt into a long string of coughs and hacks, barely giving himself any time to answer Tino's question. "I... Well... There was..." He hoped that none of the words he allowed himself to say would give himself away.

"Are you all right?" Tino reached for his companion, holding out his water bottle. "Here, drink this."

"Thank ya," Berwald replied, voice hoarse. "It's a bit of a long story," he lied, "I'll tell ya later," he coughed again to punctuate his statement.

Tino's eyes narrowed slightly, but he sighed and accepted Berwald's fib. "I should get back home," he said.

"I'll walk ya back t' yer place," offered Berwald.

"Thanks."

**XxX**

They made it back to Tino's apartment quickly enough. Wanting to continue the conversation, Tino invited him inside. Even though it was getting quite late, Berwald accepted. They sat on his couch together, the lights dimmed, looking through the window at the glittering city in comfortable quietude.

There was something pleasant about this silence, as if it were a beautiful element of nature, like the sun or the wind or the stars. Tino scooted so he sat touching Berwald, who glanced down at the sudden contact, then gave a quick smile and rested his arm around Tino's shoulders, pulling him close. He was warm and his hair was soft and smelled like coconuts. Berwald had never felt more relaxed.

However, Tino didn't share his feelings. Even as he tried to calm his nerves, focus on the heartwarming support of Berwald's muscular arm over his shoulders, his mind couldn't help but spiral back into his earlier avalanche of negativity. So what if Francis "chose" him? That didn't negate the fact that he failed his first modeling shoot. And so what if Berwald couldn't do logarithms? He was probably much better at conics than Tino. The avalanche continued, culminating in a single phrase, barely passing his lips.

"Sorry I'm such a dweeb," Tino mumbled.

"What do y' mean?"

Tino's lips pulled back into a sneer as he shook his head. "I dunno... I'm bad at modeling and school's actually harder than I thought," he said, his voice containing a slight detachment which sounded too much like defeat to Berwald.

"Yer not bad, Tino. 's not yer fault. 's Francis's, and mine. Pushed ya into it too quickly." Berwald couldn't stop himself. The words just kept falling out of his mouth. "Yer not bad at school, either. Don't say y' are."

Tino frowned and shrugged. "Why do you care? What do you know?" he spat, "You don't know anything about me, so can it, Berwald." He stood up briskly, only to be stopped by a powerful hand on his shoulder.

_He's hurt. Don't grip too hard. Don't hurt him any more, _Berwald warned himself as Tino faced him once more. "Can y' say that y' know anything about me, either?" The words came out slow and cracked. He didn't know what he was saying, but looking at Tino's face urged him to go on. " I tried so f'ckin' hard, Tino. I'm still tryin'," he sighed. Tino's expression softened. "Y' can't keep sayin' that this is yer own fault and beat yerself up over it, 'cause that'd be givin' up." He let go of Tino's shoulder. "'m not gonna let y' give up."

Tino's shoulders slumped, as if he were withdrawing to protect himself from Berwald. "Why didn't you give up, then?"

"B'cause," Berwald replied, voiced hardened and steel in his eyes, "That's not m' style."

Tino gave a drawn-out sigh. "Idealist," he commented.

"Is that a bad thing?" Berwald smirked. "It got me this far, there's no turnin' back."

Tino chuckled in response. "I don't know what to say to that," he admitted. Berwald's voice dropped to a whisper and he leaned in close, warm breath brushing Tino's ear. "Y' could do what I say and not give up," he breathed, "Come back t' _Image,_ Tino. You can try again." He moved back and locked eyes with Tino, a silent plead for his answer.

"Don't look at me like that," Tino mumbled, casting his gaze down and touching Berwald's hand gently. "I'm going back." Without warning, he moved forward, arms wrapping around Berwald's waist and face resting on his broad chest.

It was so sudden. Berwald stiffened, eyes wide and arms flailing without knowledge of what to do. Tino was hugging him! What should he do? His pulse raced, bullets of sweat dripping down his forehead.

Tino seemed to notice, though, and pat Berwald's back gently, meeting his eyes with a smile. Berwald couldn't help but relax, arms settling around Tino's shoulders to pull the other man close.

They stood like that for a bit, finally relinquishing each other with contented sighs. "I should go," Berwald muttered, looking down to hide reddened cheeks, "I'll see you tomorrow, I guess."

"You too," answered Tino. As he closed the door behind Berwald, he peeked through the closing space and grinned, "Thanks," and shut the door with a loud click. As soon as the door was closed, Tino rushed back to the couched, violently grabbed a cushion, pressed it to his face, and let out a long, muffled shriek. He screamed into the pillow to his heart's content, letting out all his thoughts be they positive, negative, or utterly confused in one drawn-out noise.

What was Berwald to him?

He had definitely proven his worth as a friend to Tino. He had taken all of Tino's insecurities and turned them completely upside-down. He seemed to know Tino better than Tino knew himself, even after only a couple weeks of knowing him. Even his face, which had at first seemed so sharp and evil to Tino, was losing its frightening edge and becoming something brighter, handsomer, kinder.

Or maybe it had always been there, and he had only just discovered a bit of Berwald's real self.

He didn't know what to think anymore. He hurled the pillow against the wall and stomped off to go to sleep.

* * *

**AN: Hot diggedy DAMN I'm on a roll. I'm taking this and running with it.  
I know it's an awful time, but I finally drew a cover for "Top Model" and I'm working on one for this fic, too. :D  
Oh look, they like each other. How sweet. 3**


	9. Chapter 9: Raining Cats and Dogs

**9 - Raining Cats and Dogs**

That weekend, when Tino stepped into _Image _for the first time in nearly three weeks, A familiar feeling washed over him. It was as if he'd never left. There was Mona, sitting at the front desk, typing away furiously with the pale glow of a computer screen highlighting her soft face. Francis stopped by to say "hi" and peck Tino on the cheek. Even Ludwig made the journey down from his secluded office to greet them and give them their next assignment.

"It'll be a group shoot for a calendar," he stated, "we're putting out a 'hot guys with small animals' calendar for next year. It's a popular tradition of ours," his eyebrows knotted as he looked over his planning sheet. "We work with a local animal shelter every year. Brings in good funds for both our organizations."

"Who's working?" asked Berwald.

Ludwig flipped over the assignment sheet. "You two, plus Francis, Ivan, Feliks, and Heracles. Should be enough for a 12-month calendar. Are there any animals you're allergic to?"

Tino gasped. "Cats. I'm allergic to cats."

"All right. No cats for Tino Väinämöinen," he muttered, scribbling something on the paper. "We'll reconvene in the dressing room in an hour to get ready. Enjoy yourselves," he waved and walked off without a backwards look.

Tino turned to Berwald. "I'm excited," he grinned.

"Good," Berwald replied, "Me too."

**XxX**

Tino thought that his second shoot was infinitely better than his first because of two important factors. One, proximity to small animals. Tino even befriended a small white dog at the shelter of unknown breed, but who cares, she was a cutie. He allowed himself to stay for the shoots with the cats with Berwald and Heracles, as long as he took his allergy medication and stayed a good enough distance from the setup. He cradled the white puppy in his lap as he sat in a folding chair in front of the stage, scratching her belly and allowing her to climb all over him while watching photos get taken.

Up on the stage, Berwald lounged across a spread of blue pillows and blankets struggling to hold the attention of a sleek gray cat with more interest in the white sheets making up the set than the being before him. Despite its former status as a stray and a slight limp caused by a badly healed broken leg, it possessed the same stoic dignity Berwald did, making it a perfect match for the man. Unfortunately, the cat didn't see this connection and enjoyed wandering off, resulting in Berwald having to break his pose and chase it a couple feet in order to herd it back to the setup. The result was that Berwald's shoot took much longer than expected, and while the successful photos turned out absolutely stunning, the unsuccessful ones made Tino and the other models burst into fits of laughter. Heracles' cats behaved more agreeably, snuggling up to him without wandering off or getting distracted. The only drawback, though, was that he attracted the attention of every other cat in the room playing in the makeshift pens set up by the volunteering shelter workers. In the background, they struggled to keep the cats from climbing out, even requiring the assistance of some of the off-duty models to herd them back. The fact that there were only three other cats present made the situation even more ridiculous. Tino couldn't help but chuckle every time he looked over; the sight of several grown men and women having so much trouble keeping three cats in check was so absurd!

Finally, Berwald and Heracles returned their cats to the play pen, and Berwald strode over to where Tino sat, too occupied with his new canine friend to notice Berwald's arrival.

"Hey."

Tino looked up from tickling a furry white belly only to be faced with another belly, this one smooth and etched with the outlines of defined abdominal muscles. His eyes widened and jaw dropped; he had never seen such an... attractive stomach.

Berwald raised an eyebrow. "Tino?"

With a small choke, Tino snapped back into reality, withdrawing an outstretched hand from its journey to the beautiful ivory planes of Berwald's stomach. "Yes?" he tried to hide his embarrassment with a sheepish grin and failed because he couldn't help but notice that it wasn't just Berwald's abs showing some skin, it was his entire top half. Berwald pulled up another folding chair to bring himself down to Tino's height, giving the poor man an eyeful of broad, sinewy shoulders, a strong column of a neck, and smooth pecs. Tino had to bite his tongue to keep himself from reaching out and running his hands all over the body in front of him. _No wonder he's a model,_ he realized, _I didn't know he was this hot!_

"Are y' okay?" Berwald's deep voice rang clear in his ears.

Tino coughed. "I'm fine. How'd it go?"

Berwald let out a snort. "Francis said that he was going t' make a calendar with all th' bad shots."

"I think they got one of your butt when you were crawling after that cat," Tino giggled, "I can see it now... _Miss July_. Kidding!" He playfully swat Berwald's arm at the sight of his straight face, slightly thankful for the bit of skin contact he received. Smooth, warm, and reminding him of vanilla. Berwald reclined in his chair and they watched the rest of the shoot, chatting quietly.

**XxX**

After the photoshoot, as the gofers and the shelter volunteers ran around cleaning up and rounding up the pets to be taken back to the shelter, Ludwig and Francis herded the models into one of the computer labs, where the photographers waited with their computers, cameras, and a projector.

One of the things that made _Image_ different from other modeling agencies was that it put its models first and focused not only on making money, but developing the natural talent of the models themselves and ensuring their satisfaction. After all, happy models turned out better photos, and they could only see their improvement if they looked at their pictures. So they stood around, flipping through a slideshow of the photos, picking out the best ones and laughing or cringing at the not-so-good ones. Personally, this was Berwald's favorite part of a photoshoot. He enjoyed seeing how he and the others had improved; looking around, he remembered meeting the other models throughout his career. He had even trained some of them personally. Feliks, for example; used to be shy in his photographs but gaudy everywhere else. It had taken some coaxing to get him to show that gaudiness in his modeling too, but the effects were definitely rewarding. In the photos chosen for the calendar, he posed with a flirty grin and a ferret crawling across his shoulders. Even Francis, whom he had known for so long, was not the perfect specimen of charisma and poise he was now. Changes ran abound in the agency among its models. He had probably changed as well, but looking back on it, he could only see the minutest of developments. This realization disheartened him. _I've been working so hard for this,_ he brooded, _why can't I see it, then?_

Next to him, Tino jumped a little. Why was Berwald making such an angry face? Did he not like his own photos? They looked pretty good, even the awkward ones. His favorite, however, was one of Berwald propped up on his elbows with the cat sitting on his stomach. They gazed at each other with matching nobility, creating a splendid picture of reserved strength. Looking at it made Tino's knees go weak and gave him the urge to salute.

Tino sighed. He was willing to admit that he admired Berwald and considered him a friend, despite any remnants of the wariness he felt upon their initial meeting. Hell, he could even admit that he found the other man quite attractive. Sometimes, though, he couldn't tell what his friend was thinking, like now.

It took a bit of courage to do so, but Tino spread a hand over Berwald's back and asked, "What do you think?"

Berwald unknotted his brow, relaxing into a smile. "It's good. 'm glad. Yer doin' good, too."

Tino beamed. "You really think so?" He looked back up at the slideshow, now flashing pictures of Tino and his white puppy smiling and playing.

Francis overheard their conversation and stepped in. "Ah, _bien sûr,_ Tino! Of course you're getting better!" he slung an arm over Tino's shoulders and squeezed him excitedly. "I'm so proud of you! I knew I made the right choice letting you in!"

_There was that word again, _Tino noted, _Francis's choice._ He was brought back to his earlier discussion with Berwald and his lie by omission. However, before he could ask anything, Francis spoke again.

"You're an absolute natural," he cheered, "and you look absolutely natural up there, too! I was so worried about you after the _Nerdular_ shoot, but I'm so glad I held on!" he wiped imaginary sweat off of his brow. "Anyway, thank goodness you're back! I feel like my faith has been restored..." He relinquished Tino and traipsed off to mingle with the other models. Once Tino had chosen which photos he wanted in the calendar, he excused himself to go to the bathroom for a short breather. Despite being quite a social creature, Tino needed some time to himself.

While he was washing his hands, Berwald came in. Tino noticed this and greeted him swiftly.

"Hi, Ber. What are you doing here?"

Berwald pointed to the urinal and smirked, slightly amused by Tino's oblivity. "Takin' a piss."

A light dawned on Tino's face and he blushed, embarrassed by his silliness. "Ah, okay." He continued washing his hands as an uncomfortable hush settled over them. Usually, awkward restroom silence was bearable if he didn't know the person, but he felt like he had to say something instead of just listening to Berwald pee.

"So, anything up?" asked Tino, shaking water droplets off his hands.

Berwald shrugged. "Not really. Gettin' ready t' go home." He finished, and Tino heard a quiet zipping sound as Berwald made his way to the sink to wash his hands.

Tino dried his hands on his shirt and decided to press the subject. "You seemed a little down earlier," he said cautiously, "If anything's wrong, wanna talk about it?"

Berwald almost laughed. Tino looked much too earnest. Instead, he shrugged again. "'s not such an int'resting story."

"I've got time."

"Let me dry m' hands first," said Berwald. This was less of a necessity and more of a grasp for time; he was suddenly hit by a twitching in his wrists that threw him off his train of thought and sent him into a slight panic. Instead of Tino's method of shaking his hands and wiping them on his shirt, he simply used the automatic hand dryer. The hot air soothed both his hands and his mind and gave him some time to think. Tino waited patiently behind him, which warmed Berwald's heart a little; he was so sweet. When his hands were dry enough, he pulled away and the dryer shut down.

"Well?" asked Tino.

Berwald took a deep breath. "What do y' think of me?"

"Huh?" Tino looked at him quizzically.

"I mean, uh, do y' hate me or anything?" Berwald scrabbled.

"What are you talking about?" Tino said, a smirk playing on his lips. "I don't hate you. Where did you get that idea?"

Berwald shrugged. "Y' always seem so scared around me and y' don't really talk t' me."

Tino hung his head sheepishly. "That's 'cause... Uhh..." He sighed. There really wasn't any light way of saying this. "You kind of are a scary guy. Squinting and not smiling and stuff. Also, you're big and you do Taekwondo. That's also kind of scary."

"Oh."

It was everything Berwald hated about himself, summed up in one neat little sentence by the one person Berwald thought he could be himself around.

"That doesn't mean you're not a nice guy!" Tino scrabbled for a justifying response. "You're a really nice guy! I like you, you're just... A bit intimidating."

"Y' want me t' quit Taekwondo?" Berwald scowled. "I could do that."

Tino jumped in his seat. "Absolutely not! You love Taekwondo! I can't let you do that!"

"What do ya want me t' do, then?" Berwald asked. He could feel himself getting irritated. He gripped the tiled wall, knuckles blanching.

Tino laid a hand on Berwald's broad shoulder, squeezing gently. "Absolutely nothing," he said simply, "I'm the one who needs changing."

Berwald looked at Tino, taken slightly aback. "Why? Yer already perfect, Tino," as he said this, he could feel the warmth rise to his face. He hadn't meant to put it that way...

Fortunately, his Freudian slip went unnoticed by his companion, who let out a large, snorting "HA!" He coughed a couple times to regain his composure, still guffawing occasionally. Wiping the tears from his eyes, he told Berwald, "I'm nowhere near perfect. I'm glad you think so, though." He sighed. "I just need to open up and accept you," he said, "it's been a challenge, but," he grinned at Berwald and squeezed his shoulder again, "I'm getting there."

Berwald placed a hand over the one on his shoulder. "I guess yer right," he smirked, "remember when you first came to _Image_?"

Tino let out another snort. "Oh yeah! I remember. I was so scared of you back then."

_Back then was only a couple weeks ago,_ Berwald mused skeptically. He itched the back of his head. "Yer welcome t' come t' one of my Taekwondo classes s'metime..." he suggested, "I teach kids a lot of th' time, too."

Tino almost couldn't believe it. "You and kids?" he replied excitedly, "Oh, this I have to see! I love kids!" As Tino continued on his tangent about children, Berwald couldn't help but notice how natural Tino seemed to be. He had gotten less squirrelly and seemed to emit a glow of his own. Berwald admired that. He thought back to the first time they met... Even drunk, Tino was still beautiful. He would always be beautiful, and seemed to get more so the more time they spent together.

Tino laughed, a quick, hissing sound like the steam coming out of a kettle. His smile showed only his upper teeth, most likely straightened by braces in his younger years, and pushed up his cheeks, rosy and cherubic. He only smiled for a short moment, yet the image was imprinted into Berwald's mind.

Without further thought, Berwald leaned down and kissed Tino.

* * *

**AN: Ohlook things are happening.  
I'm quite pleased with this story and AU. The SuFin dynamic has many possibilities and is really fun to write.  
It's almost quite strange... I've gone 10 chapters without tossing a sex scene in there. No worries, though. There will be one, but I need to build up to it first. Can't rush this kind of thing. ;)  
Thank you for all your wonderful responses! They keep me going~**


	10. Chapter 10: Quick Kiss, Oops, Miss

**10 - Quick Kiss, Oops, Miss**

"Berwald, what are you...?"

Tino's protest was silenced by Berwald's lips on his, gentle and unobtrusive, yet unrelenting. He did not move to make out with Tino, he simply held their lips together for a few drawn-out moments without touching him in any other way, then pulled back, leaving the other man flustered and disoriented. Berwald took Tino's fazed state to say quietly, "I think yer cute," and leave without another word.

The clicking of the door brought Tino back to his senses. When he realized there was no Berwald to yell at, he stomped his foot and screamed, "Goddamnit!" before clomping out of the bathroom.

_Why. Why would you do something like that?_ Tino's mind was in a haze of angry confusion. He was already feeling insecure enough, now he had to feel insecure about Berwald's feelings, too? _Whatever happened to "taking it slow?" I thought we were working pretty well as friends... I mean, he is kinda hot, but this isn't the way to go!_

So wrapped up he was in his own thoughts that he outright ignored Mona on his way out when she called him over to remind him to check out. Still fuming, he made his way to the U-Bahn and got on the train home. As soon as he got on, his phone vibrated, signaling the reception of a text message. It was from Berwald.

"_I'm going to TKD Monday night if you want to come." _

Tino wanted to hurl his phone against the subway door. He sighed. _Maybe I'm just overreacting,_ he realized, _maybe I've just been stupid and didn't realize that he actually felt this way about me. I wonder what he sees in me, anyway? I'm not that cool or anything... Maybe he doesn't even like me at all. Maybe he just thinks I'm handsome and that's it. I am kind of dense... _The avalanche of bad thoughts was coming back, and he leaned against one of the poles of the train. _No. There's something more than that,_ he mused, remembering their conversation the other night. _He seems genuine and he's doing all this for me. It's definitely something more. _

Reassured, he stepped off the train with a new confidence in his stride. _There's more to Berwald than he's letting on, and I might as well find out. _He whipped out his phone to text Berwald back:

"_I'll see you at TKD on Monday!"_

**XxX**

Berwald's Sunday night was mostly uneventful. He had a class (Debating for Dummies), in which he made a new friend, an aspiring journalist named Toriswho happened to be interested in the social sciences as well. He passed by Tino on campus a couple times, but their exchanges were cursory at best. He didn't regret anything, however. Tino was damn beautiful and damn precious and the wash of feelings the thought of him erupted in Berwald was so much more different from the ones he had for his previous love interests... He desired Tino's safety and refused to even curl his fists thinking about him.

There was something about him that inspired Berwald to _try._ Try to change himself for the better, and not because Tino had standards he wanted to measure up to. He wanted to become a better person entirely, for his sake as much as Tino's. He knew that much, at least. Beyond that was a fuzz of confusion and uncertain feelings.

Tino certainly was stunning, a drop-dead gorgeous model with an air of casualness about him. A lovely smile, glittering eyes, and soft hair the color of sand reminded Berwald of a sunny day on the beach, fresh and free. Berwald couldn't resist that allure, so he kissed Tino in the bathroom the day before. He didn't want to use the L-word quite yet, but it was getting there.

_I might as well just say that I love him,_ he realized, _How to come out with it, though? _

He ruminated on this puzzle for the rest of his evening and was in the shower when the idea struck him. It would take some more courage (much more than he could muster up so far), but at the opportune moment, he would tell Tino. The kiss seemed to have done half of his work for him; the text he received the day before held neither anger nor threat, and Tino would be coming to watch his class, too!

_He's gonna see who I can really be. Gotta do my best!_ he encouraged himself excitedly.

**XxX**

"Go two blocks on this street, then turn... Go another block here..."

Tino walked slowly through the city, gaze switching between a sheet of paper and darting around his surroundings. He had agreed to come watch one of Berwald's Taekwondo classes, and received a set of directions in return. The directions Berwald had given him were concise and clear and included a simple map drawn in the corner of the sheet, and fortunately, he found the place without much concern. Berwald waited outside, leaning against the building, dressed in his uniform. He looked different in the white, crisp ensemble than he did in his normal clothes, and the deviation was striking. He gave the air of a controlled strength, like the surface of the ocean or the low-lying clouds before a storm, instilling a feeling of awe in Tino. When Berwald saw Tino, he waved.

"Wow! You look so cool!" Tino ran over to him giddily, admiring his uniform and his belt. "You're a black belt?"

Berwald nodded. "Training t' get m' second d'gree," he answered.

He led Tino inside. Tino noted that Berwald bowed when he entered the building and took his shoes off, so he did the same. Berwald smiled to himself; Tino was so eager. He took a seat in a cushy chair near the entrance to the dojang, giving him a good view of the matted area. Berwald stepped up to his spot to line up with everyone else and they bowed to the instructor, signaling the beginning of class.

Tino watched as they were led through warm-ups and line drills, increasing in intensity. Surprisingly, Berwald was less scary doing Taekwondo than he was normally. He looked controlled yet emanating a power that was more regal in stature than horrifying. When Berwald kicked, Tino realized how long his legs were. When he punched, his arms darted out with such speed that Tino could hardly notice when he did so. It was utterly amazing, to say the least, to be so cool yet powerful, and Tino felt himself itching to move around along with the rest of the class.

Finally, the teacher at the front called for a water break, and the class poured off the mats to crowd around the water cooler. They gleamed of sweat and reeked of body odor, and as they chatted amongst themselves, Berwald waded his way over to where Tino sat and asked, "What d'ya think?"

"You look awesome!" Tino gushed, "I can't believe you're a black belt! How long have you been practicing?"

"Since secondary school, so that makes..." Berwald counted on his fingers, "a bit more than three years. Got m' black belt not too long ago."

Tino was speechless. He simply looked Berwald up and down and up again, culminating in a quiet, "Amazing..."

Berwald smirked. "I think you'd like it. Y' should try a class out sometime."

Tino touched him on the arm. "I'd like that."

Just then, the instructor clapped, calling everyone back to the matted area. They bowed again, and the teacher divided everyone into groups by belt rank, the black belts staying at the front of the class. He then dispatched the black belts to help each group of color belts. _What are they doing now?_ wondered Tino as Berwald made his way to a group of green-stripe kids. They flocked to him, crowding around his legs as he greeted them. _Kids? I didn't know he was good with kids,_ Tino noticed.

Berwald was more than good with kids. He commanded their attention, yet he was gentle and when he spoke to them, he got on his knees to talk to them at eye level. Even when they became rambunctious, he was able to quiet them down and regain their attention with ease. It was endearing to watch and revealed a side of Berwald that Tino had been all but unaware about. Tino liked it. There really was much more to Berwald than he'd originally thought.

The class ended, and Berwald went to go change. Once he was back in his civilian clothes, he and Tino bowed and exited the studio to the street.

"What do y' think?" Berwald asked as they walked back to the subway together.

"I like it," Tino smiled at Berwald, "I feel like I learned something about you."

Berwald looked away, trying to hide the color spreading across his face. "Well, uh... Guess that's a good thing," he mumbled.

"If it's okay, could I try out a class?" he asked.

Berwald nodded. "I'll talk to master Im 'bout it."

They walked on, a hush settling over them, each alone with their own thoughts as they walked side-by-side. Tino glanced at Berwald several times, just to see if he could catch his eye. Berwald seemed too deep in thought to notice, though, so Tino stuck with admiring him silently. When they made it to the subway entrance and it was time to say goodbye for the evening, Tino had something he wanted to try out. _He kissed me out of the blue earlier, so why don't I return the favor?_ Part of him felt playful, but another part of him really, really wanted to do this. As Berwald turned to him to say something, he stood up on tiptoe, grabbed the larger man by the lapels of his jacket, pulled him down, and kissed him. Stunned and speechless, Berwald stumbled back. Tino merely gave a playful grin, raced down the stairs into the station and through the gate, and turned back to shout a quick, "see you tomorrow!" before disappearing into the crowd.

After a second or two of trying to figure out what had just happened, it dawned on him. Berwald doubled over and let out a giddy laugh, one that shook his entire body, ached his stomach, and possibly made him look crazy, but he didn't care.

Tino had returned his kiss!

**XxX**

_Oh my God, Tino, shut up!_

Ever since Tino kissed Berwald, he couldn't stop giggling. He tried to stifle it, to cover his mouth with his hand, to press his lips closed, but it would always result in exploding into fits of laughter and snorts. _You are in public, after all!_ he chided himself, _But... Oh my God, I kissed him!_ he let out a chortle. The anger he had felt the other day was gone, replaced by a feeling of true and honest _like._ Yes, that was it. Tino _liked_ Berwald. He _liked_ him very much. Someone as gentle and genuine as Berwald would not have kissed Tino without a good reason. Without a doubt, Berwald _liked_ Tino, too. And that was Tino's reason for kissing Berwald back.

They _liked_ each other.

* * *

**AN: Be you single or in love, I hope y'all had a happy valentine's day (or singles' awareness day, depending on your religion :P)! Let's hope Berwald and Tino had a happy one, too~  
**


	11. Chapter 11: Short Skirts

**11 - Short Skirts**

Tino liked Berwald and he was sure Berwald liked him back. There was little to do but go through the formality of confirming it with him, yet something held Tino back. He didn't want to call it cold feet, but it definitely was a certain lack of confidence, a small "what if?" tugging at the corners of his brain. He was sure he had gotten over this part of himself, but apparently not; the insecurities flowed back into his mind if he wasn't careful enough.

_He's just toying with you,_ they said.

Tino sighed and looked back down at his class notebook, trying to focus on the lecture at hand. _No, he's not._

_ He's going to eat your heart and spit it out. You're not good enough for him, Tino._

_Shut up._ Tino squinted at his professor, straining to listen to the causes and effects of the discovery of DNA.

_You're stupid to fall for his tricks._

"I said, shut up!"

The class went silent at the sound of the scraping chair and Tino's outburst. Realizing what he had done, Tino looked around, gathered his things, and quietly excused himself from the class. The confused professor let him go, and he was wandering his way off campus and down the street by the time he finally regained control of himself. _How embarrassing,_ he thought, _I'm not sure if I can show my face in public ever again._.. _I'm so hungry._ Head down, he ducked into a nearby café to order lunch. Thankfully, he was far enough from campus that nobody he knew would notice him. He had ordered his meal and was about to sit down and eat when he heard his name.

"Tino Väinämöinen? Is that you?"

Tino hunched his shoulders, hoping that if he ignored the caller, they would go away. They didn't. Looking up, he saw two men suddenly appear before him. One he recognized as the photographer from the _Nerdular_ shoot a while back: a nervous but good-natured blonde named Eduard Von Bock. The other was another student at Kunze University who he had only seen sparingly and knew him by his mousy chin-length hair and not his name.

"Ah, I knew it was you!" Eduard exclaimed, "what a stroke of luck! You remember me, right?"

Tino nodded. "Eduard Von Bock of _Nerdular,_ right?" he asked, the wariness evident in his voice.

Eduard pulled up a chair for himself and his friend and invited himself to sit down at Tino's table, much to his chagrin. "I wasn't expecting to find you, but seriously, this is amazing! Have you met Toris Laurinaitis? He's a student at Kunze, he was just telling me about how he'd met another _Image_ model in his class!"

Tino was speechless for a second. Eduard was talkative, especially compared to other people he knew, like Ludwig, Berwald, or shy Toris sitting across from him. "Yes, and... Is there anything you want?" he asked tentatively.

"Oh, I just wanted to congratulate you on a job well done," Eduard said excitedly, "subscription sales of _Nerdular_ went up by 20% since we featured you! The readers want more, Tino!" He let out a high-pitched chortle, obviously giddy from the thought. He took a deep breath and fanned himself. "I'm so sorry. I'm just so excited that we ran into you. I was going to go back and talk to Ludwig, but now I can just talk to you directly!"

Tino couldn't help but let out a relieved laugh. "I'm so glad. I thought I botched that shoot!"

"No, you didn't," Eduard reassured him, "which brings me to my next point: are you willing to be featured again in an interview as well? We have people writing in asking about you. It's really exciting!"

Tino was flabbergasted. _Me? Being interviewed?_ He had no clue this would be happening so early in his modeling career. He wanted to pinch himself; it was almost surreal. This kind of stuff didn't happen, not even in dreams.

"Um, do I look like I'm kidding?" Eduard's voice dropped and he let out a short, quiet laugh. "Actually, I'm using this to get to know you better too. Call it an ulterior motive," he winked.

It was almost too exciting for Tino to handle. Whatever insecurity he'd felt earlier had slipped down the drain. He and Eduard continued their conversation, Toris occasionally joining in, and within the next twenty minutes, Tino had exchanged phone numbers with the other two with promises of keeping in touch, both as friends and as partners in business.

Finally, Toris asked the most important question Tino would ever be asked: "How did you become a model?"

Tino thought for a second. The events of that particular night were quite foggy, only snippets of coherence peppered through a forgotten night.

"I... Can't quite remember that particular night clearly," he said quietly, "I was depressed. I went out and got drunk, and I think I passed out somewhere..." He regarded Toris's and Eduard's visages, both the clear picture of horror. "It's not like I do that often," Tino corrected himself, "I was just feeling down that day, and–"

"And then...?" Eduard cut him off in anticipation.

Tino cleared his throat. "Er... Some kind people found me and brought me to a nearby hotel so I could sleep. They even bought me new clothes."

"Sounds dangerous," Toris commented.

Tino shrugged. "My brain was weird that time. I was scared of the wrong things. Anyway," he continued, "when I woke up, I found a business card for _Image_ and a note. I still remember what it said clearly: _There are many paths. Your life isn't over._ I didn't find out who wrote it, or who brought me back, though. It has to be someone at _Image,_ I think..." He trailed off, lost in thought. He hadn't dwelled on who it was that brought him to the hotel that night, or who had left him the note that saved his life. He felt that he had been improper somehow, going for so long without regarding his savior (or saviors). After ruminating a bit, he spoke again, a request for Eduard: "Actually, Eduard, can you put that in along with the interview? I want to try to find who left me that note."

Eduard nodded. "Got it. I'll talk to Ludwig too, and we can figure out a good time for your shoot."

Tino smiled. "Thanks."

**XxX**

Even though it was late fall and the weather was starting to get nippy, it was still a wonderful day for a stroll, which was why Berwald skipped taking the train and decided to walk the twelve city blocks from Kunze University to the _Image_ building. The sky shone blue, framed by stone buildings, and the small trees dropped golden leaves onto the sidewalk. Bundled up in his coat and muffler, Berwald was enjoying his walk with a purpose. He was just going to stop by _Image_ between his noon and evening classes to chat with Ludwig, who said he had a new assignment for him that weekend.

He passed by a café. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a familiar figure sitting near the window. Slowing down his pace, he realized that it was Tino, sitting across from the _Nerdular_ photographer and Toris from his Sunday night debate class. They seemed to be engrossed in a vivid conversation, Tino laughing and smiling as his companions talked. Sometimes, he would touch the photographer on the arm, and when that happened, it was like a small punch to Berwald's gut. He wished he was able to talk to Tino so relaxedly, eliciting laughter like it was nothing.

There were two options he could have chosen. One was to keep walking, and the other was to pop into the café and say hi to Tino, Eduard, and Toris. They looked like they were having such fun, though, and he didn't want to seem overbearing. So with a twisting feeling in his gut, he continued his walk to _Image_. Hopefully there would be time to run into Tino later.

By the time he entered the building, the outside cold had taken a toll on him. He couldn't feel his nose or the tips of his fingers, but thankfully the building was heated enough to bring them back to life as he warmed his extremities against one of the heaters in the lobby. Relieved, he turned around to find Francis heading towards him.

"Ah, Berwald, _salut!_" he greeted casually, "Ludwig told me you were coming today."

Berwald nodded. "Mm. Need t' discuss somethin' with him. Got a new thing t' do this weekend."

"Oh, is that the advertisement for the department store chain?" asked Francis, "We've been so busy this fall, I can't keep track. _C'est penible!_" he whined, "so much to keep track of... We need to put together the calendars by next week, too!" He took a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself down. "So, how are you?"

"'M doin' okay," he answered, "Nothin' special."

"And how's Tino?"

Berwald almost felt his heart stop for a second. "He's doin'... Fine, too."

Francis clicked his tongue. "I was in the bathroom the other day, after the calendar shoot."

Berwald was sure his heart stopped just now.

"It was kind of annoying, really," Francis complained, "I was stuck in the stall and I couldn't even get out until you two had left."

"'M sorry," muttered Berwald.

Francis's lips curled into a coy smile. "It's quite okay, I found out something very interesting that day. Are you by any chance... In love with Tino?" He clapped a hand on Berwald's shoulder. "Don't say you aren't, I know what I've seen."

Slightly annoyed at his senior's harassment, Berwald brushed off the hand on his shoulder. It wasn't going to do him any good to deny it, so he replied with a terse, "Yes. It doesn't make a diff'rence, though."

Francis nodded. "He's very open with everyone he meets," he thought aloud, "so you have to make him notice you!"

Thinking back to their shared kiss in front of the subway station, Berwald disagreed. "Think he's noticed me 'nough already." He glanced at his watch. "Ludwig's going t' work me over with his crop if I don't meet him soon," he said evasively, "I should go." And with that, he rushed off to Ludwig's office.

As for Tino... Berwald needed to bring all this drama to a close. He would have to tell him. Somehow.

* * *

**AN: Good afternoon, !  
This story's like my baby. I'm currently in the longest labor period ever. Hearing all your feedback makes it totally worth it, though! Thank you~**


	12. Chapter 12: Smiling Tonight

**12 - Smiling Tonight**

In the weeks that followed the release of his interview with _Nerdular_, Tino received letters upon letters of people claiming to be his mysterious savior. For safety, they were filtered and forwarded to him from the _Image_ office, but nonetheless, they were taking up his time. He hardly had time to study anymore, spending his hours searching each letter for a potential sign. He had several leads, but they all ended up going nowhere and with each passing day he grew more and more frustrated.

Unfortunately, it was only a small part of the many things annoying Tino at the moment. He had his studies to worry about, his major to pick, his modeling to do, his friends to keep... It was all so overwhelming and so sudden.

Berwald believed in him, though, and told him such. Sometimes they would study together in their free time at either of their apartments, as friends. And that was Tino's final problem: whether or not Berwald liked him more than as a friend or not. Being so busy, the issue was often overshadowed by something else. Mostly it was homework.

It was on such a night that Berwald and Tino got together at Tino's apartment to study. Berwald was cramming for a test and Tino had a few math problems he meant to finish. They lay on his coffee table, half-done.

Instead of doing his work, Tino sat on his floor among a pile of letters forwarded to his address from _Image_. He sifted through them, opening each one and scanning the contents, then sorting them into short stacks of ones he liked and crumpling up the rejects. Normal fan mail went into a neat stack behind him; these were the ones that weren't creepy or mean in any way. The creepy or mean ones (usually from people just trying to start a fight with him) were directly jettisoned into the small wastebasket next to him.

On the couch sat Berwald, hunched over a history textbook. Occasionally, he glanced at Tino, so immersed in his mail that no words were exchanged between them. It made Berwald slightly uncomfortable. He had never seen Tino get so darkly serious about anything, and this grimness was new and uncharacteristic.

After several minutes, Tino stood up with a grunt and used his foot to press down the pile of crumpled papers in his wastebasket. Several quiet slurs and stomps later, he moved over to the couch and sat next to Berwald.

"How's it going?" Berwald asked, closing his textbook and rubbing his forehead.

Tino crossed his arms. "No luck. I'm getting so many letters from people claiming to be the person I met that night, but they've all got the details dead wrong."

"Why are y' workin' so hard t' find whoever this person is?" asked Berwald nonchalantly, "It's eatin' ya up."

Tino gave Berwald an incredulous look. "That's exactly why! It's going to eat me up if I don't find out!" He let out an exasperated growl, "I at least want to thank whoever gave me this career, but it's so frustrating!"

_I guess it's about time to tell him,_ he thought, _I kept it hidden for so long out of selfishness... I didn't want him to love me only because he was indebted to me. _He sighed and fixed his eyes on Tino, begging to meet his gaze. "I've got an answer for ya," he said quietly.

"Oh no. Don't tell me it was you!" Tino exclaimed in anticipation.

Berwald nodded. "Francis n' me."

"Who wrote the note?"

"I did."

Tino rested his head in his hands, trying to take in the information. Still dubious, he came up with another question. "What kind of clothes did you get for me?"

"A touristy T-shirt and sweatpants," Berwald answered without skipping a beat.

Tino gave up. "So it really was you and Francis," he breathed, "why did you keep it a secret, though?" He began to snarl, "I can't believe it was you! Why didn't you tell me?"

Anxiety rose in Berwald. He began to fidget, trying to find the right words to say. He had the reason in his head, but he couldn't convey it the right way. Instead, he stared at Tino, silently pleading for him to keep talking just so he could buy himself some time or find something to work with. Unfortunately, all his silence did was infuriate the other man further. Tino's rant exploded into a full-on tirade. "Berwald, I need some answers from you. Anything. From the day I met you, you've thrown my life into so much confusion and I don't know how to feel anymore! Do I feel good? Do I feel bad? I'm so confused!" He gripped his hair with his hands and took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself. After a few moments, he wheezed, "Please, Berwald... Just tell me..."

"'M not good at words," Berwald said slightly louder than he wanted, startling Tino, "y' confuse me as much as I confuse ya. It ain't all about ya, Tino. Think 'bout other people, too!"

Tino was agitated. He turned to face Berwald. "You're on my mind all the damn time, Berwald!" he jabbed the other man in the chest, "how could you say something like that?"

"'M not a fuckin' magician," retorted Berwald. Tino's agitation was infectious, he could feel himself losing his cool as well. "I can't take care of m'self and you at th' same time!" This wasn't what he wanted to argue about at all. "'Specially when 'm not sure of yer feelings," he added in a quieter tone.

"And I'm not sure of yours..." realization dawned on Tino's face. This particular problem between them had been the result of a huge miscommunication. "I'll tell you if you tell me," he said gently, inching closer to Berwald.

Berwald let out a long breath, feeling his nerves calm just from looking at the smaller man beside him. "I love ya, Tino. 'S been awhile since anyone touched m' life like that, and I want ya t' love me 'cause y' love me, not 'cause yer in debt t' me."

Tino smiled. "But I do love you," and with that, he kissed Berwald. Gently, softly, delicately, like the brief breath of butterfly wings on his cheek. His voice lowered to match the kiss's tenderness. "You picked me up at my weakest moment and stayed with me."

They stayed quiet for a moment, taking in the relief the clarification gave them. Finally, Tino spoke again. He asked, "What exactly happened that night? I was absolutely smashed... I can't remember all too well what happened."

Berwald shrugged. "'S not that interesting. Francis 'nd I were out fer a drink and we found ya on our way home. Kind of a bad move t' leave someone like ya out in th' street, so we took ya to a hotel and got ya new clothes."

"Oh," Tino murmured, "anything else?"

Berwald furrowed his brow, wondering whether to add his first impression of Tino or not. "Thought there was somethin' interestin' 'bout ya. 'S why I reached out."

Tino leaned in, listening for more. "And...?"

"And here we are," Berwald allowed himself a smile.

Tino let out a small laugh in response and simply clasped Berwald's hand in his own. "I feel much calmer now," he said as he surveyed his living room, "I think I'm going to clean up." Berwald nodded and settled back into doing his homework.

As he cleared out the piles of letters and the piles of trash, Tino replayed what had just happened. Behind him was Berwald, who he could finally say with certainty loved him back. It would take some work to clear up any future misunderstandings as it did tonight, but it was work Tino was willing to do for their sake. Overall, he felt good. Despite their argument, there was no bad aftertaste, and it seemed Berwald felt the same. He felt renewed; this was wonderful.

At the same time, Berwald plowed through his history book, trying to shift his focus from Tino back to the economics of British mercantilism. History required the utmost concentration, but Berwald felt his attention creep towards Tino. He gave in and sighed, resting his textbook on his lap. It was slightly odd to finally be able to say that he was in a relationship with Tino now, after skirting around and being unsure for so long. It was nice, though. He had the utmost respect for the smaller man crawling on the floor chasing after envelopes and he knew that Tino respected and loved him as well. He gave an accomplished smile and thumbed through his history book. Only a couple more pages to go.

"Berwald," Tino paused his cleaning to approach his new lover, but as soon as he got close to the man on the couch, he was pulled into a tight hug.

"'M done studyin'," Berwald said softly, "'m sorry about what I said earlier. When we were yellin'. I could take care of ya."

Tino chuckled. "No, you were right. I'm already out of the house, living on my own, holding a job, studying in college... I almost can't believe this, but I'm an adult, and I might have been kind of a whiny brat back there."

"But y' can fall back on me if need be," replied Berwald.

Tino slung an arm around Berwald's shoulder, fingers tangling in the loose fabric of his T-shirt. "I'm going to extend the same offer to you," he smiled, "I don't think I'd like to be a damsel in distress the entire time."

"Deal." As soon as the word was released into the air, Berwald sealed his lips against Tino's: their first mutual kiss. Neither of them was content with the chaste touching of lips, though. Tino became grabby, hands scrabbling to hold Berwald against him. Finally, he had free reign to explore the sinewy planes of Berwald's back, shoulders, chest, arms, everything he was only able to admire from afar.

Berwald seemed more content to wrap his arms around Tino: one holding his waist and another splayed across the smaller man's back, almost folding himself around his lover, yet he kissed him as fervently.

They pulled apart momentarily, only to regard each other for a slim second before initiating an even hotter kiss, Tino straddling Berwald's lap and Berwald's hands creeping up Tino's shirt to leave warm spots on Tino's skin. The wet side of tongue against tongue, skin, lips... It was nothing short of ecstasy.

There were still things to do and places to be, but with the nights becoming chiller and last of the autumn leaves falling into the street outside, there was nowhere else Berwald and Tino would rather be: in each other's arms, all mysteries dispelled.

* * *

**AN: Look, closure! Sort of.  
Things aren't over yet, kids. Stay tuned!  
And thanks for all the love. **


	13. Chapter 13: And To All, A Good Night

**13 - And To All, A Good Night**

Time really flew when one was moving forward, much to Tino's delight. Between modeling, school, and getting further and further both physically and mentally with his new boyfriend, the holiday season had come upon them.

This was first brought to his attention when Berwald told him that he would be visiting his parents for the first few nights of Hanukkah.

"You're Jewish?" Tino inquired.

Berwald shrugged. "On m' mom's side. We celebrate both Hanukkah and Chris'mas at m' house."

Following that exchange was a conversation in which they shared stories about their family, and that weekend, Berwald left Berlin to visit his family. Tino, having never celebrated any winter holiday other than Christmas, studied and worked as usual through the Hanukkah period. The day Berwald returned to Berlin (his holiday had to be cut short due to exams), he phoned Tino with something important to say.

Tino picked up on the first ring, bored from lying on the couch with his feet on the coffee table. "_Hier Väinämöinen,_" he mumbled.

"Tino, 's me."

Tino recognized the voice on the other line. "Berwald, you're back?"

"Drove in last night," Berwald replied, "How've y' been?"

Tino let out a sigh. "Bored," he drawled, "Been doing a lot of work. Exams are in a couple days, y'know."

"'S why 'm back so early," Berwald snorted, "I'd be eatin' latkes if it weren't for exams."

"How was Hanukkah?"

"It was good," answered Berwald, "got t' see m' parents and m' sister. Told 'em I had a boyfriend."

_This could either go really well or really badly,_ Tino anticipated. He asked warily, "Then what?"

Berwald let out a chuckle. "They want t' meet ya. 'M goin' back around Christmas fer a visit. What're yer plans fer Christmas?"

Tino let out a gasp. "Your parents? Really? This is so soon..."

Silence. Berwald was waiting for a solid answer.

"I should be able to go, though," confirmed Tino, "but we've gotta work this out; vacation's already getting pretty busy," he let out a small laugh, "Francis already called me about the _Image_ holiday party, and that's right after exams, and I'm going to be spending Christmas eve with my parents..."

"We c'n make it work," Berwald replied, relief evident in his voice. "Gotta study, though, so I guess I'll see y' later."

Before he could hang up, Tino said, "Berwald?"

"Yes?"

Tino sighed. "I love you. Happy Hanukkah," he said as a smile spread across his face.

Berwald was glad that they were talking on the phone, lest Tino notice the redness blossoming on his cheeks. "Love ya too, Tino. Merry Christmas," he said before hanging up.

**XxX**

Exams passed by without a hitch, and all the students at Kunze University were on break. Tino had his entire vacation planned out: There was the _Image_ annual holiday party to attend, then he would be going home with Berwald to meet his family, then hopping over to his own parents' house to spend Christmas with them. When Berwald asked why, he placed his hand over his heart, puffed up his chest, and said proudly, "Väinämöinen tradition," to which Berwald gave a small laugh and pulled him into a hug.

That weekend, they set out for Francis's mansion in the well-to-do area of Zehlendorf in the southern part of the city, where the party was to be held. The snow fell softly outside, flurries landing soundlessly in the streets and the bare trees to cover everything in sight. Ludwig's luxury Audi zoomed through the slush on the streets, its driver white-knuckled on the steering wheel as rowdiness erupted in the car.

In the driver's seat sat Ludwig, trying to maintain focus on the road. Next to him was a good-tempered and equally handsome man named Feliciano Vargas, who Berwald only knew as a designer who worked closely with _Image_. In the back seat sat Feliciano's brother and partner, designer Lovino Vargas, who enjoyed staring out the window, making crabby faces, and disagreeing with everything Ludwig said, even if it was just about the snow falling outside. Tino and Berwald took up the remaining back seats, trying to keep to themselves. The Vargas brothers were already making enough noise for the five of them.

"Thank goodness. We're almost there," Ludwig sighed.

Lovino shot him a glare. "Took long enough, icky potato bastard. Why is it so cold here?" he grumbled. Ludwig simply rolled his eyes as he pulled into Francis's driveway.

"That's it, everyone out." The engine shut off and Francis was already waiting by the open door, beckoning them over with a wave of the hand.

They went inside, and immediately Tino was taken aback by how fabulous the Frenchman's mansion was. The foyer floor was made of polished marble with a grand staircase at either side of the room. Several settees and end tables were pushed up against the walls to provide places to sit, and through ornate doorways Tino glimpsed the kitchen–fairly modern with a countertop island–and the parlor, which was where most of the people already at the party were gathered.

"There are drinks in the kitchen," Francis grinned, "and snacks in the parlor. Dinner will be at eight. Have fun!"

Tino looked up at Berwald. "I'm... Going to need a drink," he chuckled.

**XxX**

More and more people arrived, and soon enough, the party was in full swing. The entire first floor of Francis's mansion was covered with people, many of them whose names and faces escaped his memory. Models from other agencies, designers from other countries... They all flocked to Francis's estate to drink and celebrate the holiday. Mostly to drink.

Tino walked alongside him, trying to weave his way through the crowd while asking Berwald who the people he bumped into were. In his hand was a glass of expensive wine–Francis didn't skimp on anything–which he occasionally sipped at, which stained his lips with a bright, shiny red that Berwald couldn't get enough of. He snuck kisses when he was sure no one was watching, but you never really knew whose eyes were on you in a crowd like this.

"Naughty, naughty," a voice from behind them chided. Berwald relinquished his hold on Tino and turned around to see Francis behind them, a wide grin on his face and his arm slung around a young man who looked about Tino's age.

"Francis," Berwald greeted, slightly embarrassed.

Francis's grin remained on his face. "I've thrown quite a party, haven't I?"

Tino returned his smile and swirled his wine glass. "You have. It's crazy how you know so many people," he commented.

"I relish in having a social network," said Francis. He pat his unnamed friend on the back. "By the way, have you met Lukas? He's about your age."

The silent stranger nodded at Tino and Berwald, who felt chills as cold indigo eyes scrutinized them up and down.

Tino tried to be friendly. "I'm Tino," he held out his hand to shake, "and this is Berwald. We're models at _Image._"

Lukas shook Tino's hand limpidly. "Lukas Bondevik." His soft blond hair, almost white, fell in curled fringes over his right eye. Everything else was pinned back, giving him an aura of enigmatic tidiness.

"So, Lukas, what do you do?" Tino asked.

Lukas shrugged, blonde fringe rustling with the movement. Francis answered for him, saying, "Oh, he's your newest co-worker... _Image_'s newest model! When I first saw him, I just _knew_ I had to have him."

Berwald and Tino winced at Francis's poor choice of words, but they inwardly agreed that there was something sellable behind those frigid blue eyes.

Francis then clasped Tino's hands, leading him away from the group. "I'm going to need to ask you for a favor, _mon cher._"

"Yes?"

"You are one of _Image_'s top models. I'm sure you know this already." Francis seemed distraught, avoiding divulging his request to Tino.

"I think so..." Tino raised an eyebrow. He wished Francis would just get on with it already.

"Can you be Lukas's mentor?"

The request hit Tino like a bomb. Sure, he knew he was good, but he didn't think he was worthy of passing his knowledge to anyone else! He was barely out of the hands of his own mentor, and now Francis was requesting this? He stared at Francis, eyes wide and jaw dropped, unable to utter any denial or confirmation. "I-I-I-uh..."

"Yes?"

"I need time to think about it," Tino said finally. _Lots of time. Maybe even forever._

Francis let out an exaggerated sigh, obviating his displeasure at Tino's indecisiveness. "Fine, fine, just don't take too long." He turned on his heel and walked back to the group, not checking if Tino was following or not. Noticing his glass was a bit on the empty side, Tino decided it was about time he got some more wine or eggnog or champagne or anything to dull the odd little bite he felt from Francis's pressure. He returned to the kitchen, refilled his glass, and craned his neck to look for Berwald. He didn't have to look too far, as he spotted Berwald heading towards him, eyes cast downward and a slight scowl on his face. He regarded Tino briefly before pouring himself a glass of wine and drinking half of it in one long gulp.

"Are you all right?" Tino asked, rubbing Berwald's arm, "It's not healthy to drink wine like that."

Berwald put his glass on the counter and slung his arm around Tino, leaning into the smaller man. "'s Lukas," he said quietly, as if he were confiding in a teddy bear, "'s a jerk."

Tino raised an eyebrow and pat Berwald's broad back. "Tell me about it?"

Berwald looked around shiftily. "Not here." He picked up his wine glass and led Tino upstairs to Francis's guest room, which was luckily unoccupied at the moment. Tino locked the door behind them.

It was a beautiful room, wallpapered in shades of deep red and brown, lit by wall-mounted lamps which cast a soft, sexy glow. The most inviting part was the king-sized bed in the center of the room, which Berwald plopped down on and invited Tino to sit with him. Together, they sipped at their wine as Berwald tried to put together why Lukas ticked him off so much.

"'S like he's dissectin' me with his eyes," Berwald grumbled, "feel like 'm bein' turned inside-out. Don't see his appeal."

Tino shrugged and leaned against Berwald, swirling his wine glass. "I guess that's part of his charm," he concluded, "and it can be summed up in two words: ice prince. Actually, about Lukas, Francis gave me the most outrageous request," he pulled back, face finally flushed from all his drinking, and gave Berwald an impish grin. "He wants me to mentor him. 'I'm going to need to ask you a favor, _moooon sheeer,_'" he sneered, imitating the Frenchman's accent, "what in the world is he thinking?"

Berwald almost dropped his wine glass. "Are y' kiddin' me?" His face, too, was slightly flushed.

"Not a bit!" Tino finished off his wine and put the glass on the floor, "I dunno whether to say yes or not... I can't mentor the way you did, Berwald." And with that, he looked up at his boyfriend earnestly, the memories of their work together flooding his tipsy mind. He looked so beautiful and sincere, Berwald couldn't help but kiss him. He placed his glass down on the nearby night stand and captured Tino's lips, gently lowering him down onto the bed.

"I love ya," Berwald whispered as his lips grazed Tino's jaw and earlobe. Tino laughed and pulled Berwald close.

"I love you, too." His hands crept from Berwald's shoulders down to his chest, pausing to brush his collarbone peeking out of the neck hole of his shirt. "Are you up for...?"

"Of course."

Tino laughed. "Good, that means I can do this." Showing surprising strength, he flipped Berwald over and straddled him, pressing his lover's lips to his own. Tino's sudden dominance was a bit new, but definitely refreshing, and Berwald complied. He let himself be kissed and fondled, but not without leaving a few marks of his own on Tino's neck and shoulders as their shirts were thrown on the ground, disregarding the fact that they were in somebody else's house, in somebody else's guest room, when somebody else could walk in and see at any moment. Neither of them cared, though. The warmth of bare skin on a cold winter night served to egg them on.

Slightly flushed from the wine, Tino kissed his way down Berwald's bare chest. "I want you," he whispered against heated skin.

Berwald carded his hands through Tino's hair, the rumble of a small laugh in his belly. "Ya got me," he said, cupping the other man's face to meet his for a kiss.

A loud squeak brought Tino and Berwald back down to earth. They abruptly halted their ministrations to search for the source of the noise, which was not hard to find: Lukas stood in the open doorway, hand still on the knob. He did not move, he only stood there, frozen yet expressionless.

Berwald and Tino, however, panicked. They quickly moved to cover themselves with the guest bed blanket. "Have you ever heard of knocking!?" Tino cried out, "it's not polite!"

Lukas cocked his head. "It's impolite to have sex in other people's houses as well, Tino."

"We are _not_ on a first-name basis, Mr. Bondevik!" Tino retorted, "Berwald, help me out!"

Berwald was dumbstruck, but shook himself out of it. "Should assume what goes on at Francis's parties is less than savory," he said, voice calm yet holding an undercurrent of exasperation, like a storm about to happen, "knockin's always a good idea."

Shrugging, Lukas replied, "I just need to use the bathroom."

"There are dozens of bathrooms outside!"

"All full," Lukas strode across the room and slipped into the adjoining guest bathroom, "I'll see you later, Tino."

Leaping out of bed and pulling on his clothes with enough force Berwald worried he would rip them, Tino let out a high-pitched growl. "I can't believe I'm supposed to mentor that guy!" he ran his hands through his hair, "I've known him for two hours and I already hate his guts!"

Berwald moved to put his clothes on as well. "Maybe he's not all bad," he offered, trying to remain calm. Tino was raging enough for both of them.

Tino merely replied with a loud hiss and stomped over to the bathroom door. "I can hear you pee, y'know!" he shouted. The lack of response frustrated him even more, and Berwald put his hands on his boyfriend's shoulder and steered him out of the room.

"Let's get something to drink," he offered, as if they weren't already drunk enough.

Tino merely grumbled and followed Berwald out of the guest room.

**XxX**

The rest of the party went great. Tino tried not to think about Lukas and enjoy himself with the new, fashionable circles he was now swimming with, which was easier to do as soon as he had some fresh alcohol in him. He wasn't quite sure who had given him a ride home, only that Berwald was with him as they walked up the steps and fell together in bed, too tired to even utter a word. He fell asleep with his shoes on, feet hanging off the bed, Berwald curled up next to him equally as distended.

It was a good night.

* * *

**AN: A bit late to be writing a Christmas chapter, right? Oh well, I'm glad it's done. That isn't the only bit of Christmas we're getting, though.  
I took the idea of Berwald being part Jewish from my boyfriend, who is also Swedish and part Jewish.  
And we also meet Lukas! Looks like relationships take time, though.  
Thanks for all the love~  
**


	14. Chapter 14: The Parents

**14 - The Parents**

"You'll like m' parents," Berwald said, "They're fun t' be around."

"I'm sure I'll like them," Tino replied, placing his hand over Berwald's on the shift knob, "They gave birth to you after all."

Berwald rolled his eyes and turned off the highway. Tino had warned Berwald that his car (which Berwald was driving for the sake of navigation) wasn't great at turns, and he clung to his seat. "They did more than that," Berwald admitted, "I was a problem child."

Tino cocked his head and squeezed Berwald's hand. "I can't see that."

"A real problem. Got into fights and everythin'." Changing the subject, he added, "We're here."

Tino followed Berwald out of the car and into the house. Berwald's words had piqued his curiosity; he hadn't heard anything about Berwald being a "problem child;" he was such a good, stand-up, respectable man. Unfortunately, he didn't have the time to ask, as Berwald's parents and sister rushed into the foyer to greet them.

His father was short and stocky, like a brick wall. His mother was tall and lithe, as was his older sister, whom Berwald resembled the closest. His family greeted Berwald warmly as Tino watched, feeling a bit like an outsider until they turned to him and shook his hand one-by-one.

"'s cute," commented Berwald's sister simply. Tino noted that she held the same taciturn countenance as Berwald, with a hint of something more feminine and relaxed. She moved back with a mysterious smile on her lips, arms folded in front of her breasts. "Ya done well, kiddo."

Berwald rolled his eyes and simply sighed, "Birgit..."

Berwald's mother and father greeted Tino next. He shook their hands politely and introduced himself; he was raised with manners, after all. The family then moved to the living room, where a Christmas tree had already been set up with wrapped gifts underneath its boughs. As it was still light outside, the tree was unlit, but not for long. Berwald stooped to turn the lights on, and they cast colorful patches onto the surrounding walls and floor. On the coffee table in the center of the room sat a small menorah, though Hanukkah was long over.

"Forgot t' put that away," Mr. Oxenstierna muttered, picking up the menorah and studying it in his hand. "What d'ya celebrate, Tino?" he asked.

Tino flinched. All the accents... It was like being in a room full of Berwalds. He willed himself to accept the situation and answer his boyfriend's father's question politely. "Just Christmas, sir."

"You from Finland? Could tell by th' last name."

_Correction_, thought Tino, _he's worse than Berwald_. He willed himself to hold his ground, even though the atmosphere was stifling. Neither Berwald, his mother, nor his sister spoke, they simply watched Tino be interrogated by Mr. Oxenstierna.

Tino shook his head. "My parents are. I was born just outside Berlin," he said warily.

Mr. Oxenstierna narrowed his eyes and nodded.

Taking advantage of the sudden silence, Mrs. Oxenstierna spoke. "Tino, yer a student at Berwald's college, yes?" Her voice was more earnest than Berwald or his father's, but still had the same accent. Despite this, Tino could feel himself becoming more comfortable talking to Mrs. Oxenstierna.

"Yes," he smiled, "I'm a first-year at Kunze."

"Did you meet there?"

Tino shook his head. "No, actually. I met him at work."

At this statement, Berwald's father's eyes narrowed and he muttered, "Yer part o' that shady modeling business too?"

Tino tried to ignore the acidity of the statement, replying, "Yes. Berwald was my mentor. He's really good, too!"

Berwald blushed and put his arm around Tino's shoulders. "Not really," he mumbled, a small smile gracing his lips, "on th' other hand, yer pretty amazin'..."

"Stop that," Tino chided playfully, "you're the one who got me to where I am. If I'm amazing, then so are you." He leaned up to kiss Berwald on the cheek.

"Could ya both stop that?" The hardened voice of Berwald's father cut into the air, startling everyone in the room. He still held the menorah, clutched in his fist as if he were trying to squeeze the life out of it. Berwald's mother glared at him; disrespecting both her menorah and their guest did not please her.

She spoke against her husband's actions. "Alvin, yer th' one who needs t' stop," her voice held its usual sweetness, yet it was stern enough to get her husband to place the menorah gently down on the coffee table.

Alvin's reply was in Swedish. Tino barely understood the words but he could gather their meaning when Birgit crossed her arms, Mrs. Oxenstierna rolled her eyes, and Berwald's grip on Tino's shoulder tightened.

Birgit leaned into her brother's shoulder. "What's he got against you and yer boyfriend?" she whispered in English.

Berwald shook his head before replying, also in English, "Dunno." He thought back... His father had supported him throughout his life just as equally as his mother and sister had. He would even go as far as to say that he owed his life to his father, who was the first person to accept him being gay. So what did he have against having a boyfriend? He really could not think of a reason, and it baffled him to the point where he needed a good drink or a good go at the punching bag at his Taekwondo dojang. He let out a deep breath and looked over at his sister, her brow furrowed between sea-green eyes, identical to his. "Y'think this has anything t' do with m' sexuality?"

"No," Birgit shook her head, "he threw ya a party the day y' came out, remember?" She turned back to look at her father and said something to him in Swedish: "_Daddy, you were the first one to accept him when he came out... What's the matter now?_"

Alvin looked directly into Tino's eyes with a glare more piercing than Berwald's could ever be. "_It was bad enough that my son became a model, now he's dating another man-whore like himself, and a Finn to boot!_"

Tino didn't understand the words, but he knew _Finsk_. Finnish. His nationality uttered like a curse word. He shot out of his seat, eyes blazing. "Don't," he hissed in German, "make fun of my heritage."

Alvin let out a harsh laugh. "Fightin's primitive, but if y' want t' do it, then I won't say no."

"Alvin, yer bein' immature an' foolish! Sit down!" interjected Berwald's mother, standing up as well.

"Stay out o' this, Anna," warned Alvin, "not yer fight."

Berwald stood up and planted his feet behind Tino, realizing what his father had against his boyfriend. "_Dad, mom's right. This is foolish. Tino never did anything to harm anyone. I don't know what you have against Finns, but whatever it is, Tino isn't like that!"_ He bent to apologize quickly and quietly to Tino, "'M so sorry, m' dad's old and I think maybe some Finn wronged 'im in th' past and–

His scrabble for forgiveness was cut off by Tino. "No, I'll fight." Tino grinned, "My Finnish pride is at stake here."

Alvin grinned back. "Let's go, then."

**XxX**

Berwald tried to get them to stop. He begged in both German and Swedish, to his father and to his boyfriend, to have them reconsider, to talk it out, anything that wouldn't put either of them in danger.

His father was a scary man, despite his short stature. He came up to about Tino's nose, yet he radiated incredible strength, just as Berwald did.

Tino didn't waver, though. Unfazed by Berwald's father, they stood in the back yard, facing each other, up to their shins in snow. A fierce grin played on his lips. Berwald moved forward to stop Tino, to stop his father, to interfere somehow, but both of them turned their glares to him and told him to butt out. Berwald's mother and sister had more luck, being able to latch themselves onto Alvin and plead with him to knock it off, tossing apologies to Tino as well.

Heedless of Anna, Berwald, and Birgit's cries to be mature adults and stop, Tino and Alvin didn't back down. They stared at each other through the snow for a long moment; white flakes dusting their sweaters and cold wetness creeping up the legs of their pants.

It was Alvin who made the first move. He dove towards Tino's legs. Tino sidestepped and Alvin landed in the snow. He got up, snarled, and hurled a fistful of powdery snow at Tino. It hit his back, covering his red sweater in white.

Tino knew he was in a tussle with his boyfriend's dad, someone he had initially wanted to make a good impression on. That desire had become void at the mention of his heritage, however. Tino was proud of his Finnish lineage and was ready to defend it, and not even Berwald would stop him.

He felt almost a kinship with Alvin that transcended race, though. There was something invigorating about the cold air, the feel of snow seeping through his shirt, and his freezing wet shoes. The fierce grin on Alvin's face said the same. Tino plowed through the snow, grabbed Alvin by the arms, and tossed him into a snowbank. Alvin recovered quickly and wrapped his arms around Tino's midsection, pulling him into the snowbank and pinning him down by his shoulders.

"Still feelin' brave, Finn?" he jeered.

Tino simply smiled back in response before pushing his legs and knocking Alvin off of him. "You've got it right, sir," he said as he stood up.

Alvin let out a loud, short laugh. "Such a respectful kid," he jibed before latching himself onto Tino's leg and knocking him over again. Tino's other leg swung up to hook around Alvin's back and drive his heel right between the older man's shoulder blades. Alvin cried out in pain before laughing again. "Good hit," he commended, reaching around to take control of Tino's other leg.

No longer able to move his legs, Tino thrashed about, trying to find a hold in the slippery snow. He was starting to get tired, and he could see the same tiredness on Mr. Oxenstierna's face as well. He was finally able to flip Mr. Oxenstierna over and shove a handful of snow in his face. Alvin sputtered and spit out a mouthful of snow. Tino glared at him fiercely, frozen fingers digging into Alvin's sweater. Neither of them moved for the longest time, their breath mingling in the chilled air, until Alvin did something most unexpected.

He gently pushed Tino off of him, sat up in the snow, and began to laugh, a warming rumble that shook Alvin's entire body. Tino felt his anger subside just from hearing it, yet he felt more confused than ever. One look at the rest of Berwald's family showed that they felt the same.

"Mr. Oxenstierna...?" he asked warily.

Alvin laughed and clapped Tino on the shoulder, pulling him close. "Fightin' yer boyfriend's father... All t' defend yer honor. Yer a real man," he chuckled.

Berwald stepped in. "But what 'bout Tino's job? 'N his heritage?"

"They mean nothin' t' me," Alvin frowned, "I want t' apologize to ya, Tino," He helped the boy up, "I never thought m' son would be datin' a guy, even after he came out." He took Berwald by the hand and added, "I'm sorry t' you too, Berwald. I got a little crazy back there, didn't I?"

The shame was so evident in his father's voice that Berwald clasped his dad's hand and accepted the apology without another word. "We all kinda freaked out back there," he murmured, "let's go back inside."

The family, plus Tino, returned to the warmth of Berwald's house and dusted off the snow as Anna prepared some hot cider, and they sat down in the living room together, the Christmas lights seeming warmer than before the fight.

Alvin took a long sip of cider before clapping Tino on the shoulder. "Y' fought well, Tino. Should think of joinin' Berwald's Taekwondo school."

"Thanks, Mr. Oxenstierna," Tino grinned, "you fought well back there too."

"Did I?" he exclaimed, a smile playing on his lips, "This kid knows his respect!"

Still trying to wrap his head around what was happening, Berwald asked weakly, "Ya don't have anythin' against Finns...?"

Berwald's father shrugged and took another sip of his drink. "Finns? Nahh. They're good people," he punched Tino in the shoulder, playfully, and Tino punched him back. "Jus' want t' make sure my son's datin' a real man. He sure as hell needs one!"

Berwald's jaw hung open. "Dad!" he whined as Alvin burst into belly-shaking laughter. Tino and Birgit let out similar guffaws, and even Anna cracked a smile for her silly husband.

"Merry Christmas," Alvin cheered.

"And to all a good night," Tino finished.

**XxX**

After a hearty Christmas dinner, it was time for Tino to face the darkening sky and drive to his own parents' house. He said his goodbyes to the Oxenstierna family, Berwald especially, and sped out onto the highway feeling much lighter than he had ever been before.

His parents noticed the change as well, commenting that he had become someone different from the prickly teenager who threw tantrums whenever he received a grade lower than an A minus. Tino bristled at this description, preferring to leave behind his awkward past, but was ecstatic to know he'd changed for the better. Over dinner, he decided to share the good news with his family:

"I've been asked to mentor a new model," he said, biting into a warm bun.

His mother raised an eyebrow. "Is this at that modeling job you've taken up?" Tino knew his mother didn't fully support his career choice, but she tried her best to remain open-minded and respect her son's decisions, for which Tino felt grateful.

"Yup. His name's Lukas Bondevik and he's kind of a prick–"

"It's not gentlemanly to call people pricks, I think we told you that already," Tino's father chided gently. Unlike his mother, Tino's father cared more whether Tino had grown up into a gentleman: polite, perfect, respectable, and kind. Tino grinned sheepishly; he wasn't quite there yet.

"Sorry, dad. Anyway, I'm taking the opportunity to mentor him," he finished excitedly.

This made both his parents smile. They had a mutual disrespect for wasted opportunities, something that had been passed down to Tino as well. Seeing the happy looks on his parents' faces made it all worthwhile. He was even beginning to get excited about this new task.

He would have to call Francis as soon as Christmas dinner was over.

* * *

**AN: omfg I did it  
I wrote the thing  
Aughgh I'm sorry for the long wait, it's up now. The really funny part is that it's July and I'm writing about Christmas... Merry Christmas in July! :p  
**


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